Like the Wind
by Talosee
Summary: Shenna is a stray kid, living on the streets of Orgrimmar, from hand to mouth. Meeting a fat pandaren, however, changes her miserable life and she starts to believe that there might be a future for her. - Rated M for sexual content and of some hinting on the way.
1. Her Master

This little something I started last year. I just made myself a little blood elf and figured, "hey, this doesn't make any sense...". So I started to invent my own background story for her. It's supposed to be a shortstory so I don't wanna lose myself again in descriptions and such.

The story is set in World of Warcraft (everything belongs to Blizzard, of course, the main character is my own), after the Pandaren of the Wandering Isle come to Azeroth and join the Horde or the Alliance - but before Taylor and Naz'grim have their little sit-in (you know, the one you can see in the Pandaria trailer...) - after bashing eachother nuts, that is...).

Anyway, enjoy yourselves - hopefully. I'm still not native to the english language, this is a mere exercise for me, but then again: Wer rastet, der rostet :)

* * *

**Her Master**

He was easy prey. Fat and round, he didn't look like he could even master the power to stand up from his creaking bench – much less to leave the orcish brew behind, _if_ he would notice her.

Shenna didn't bother to sneak. Sneaky persons always looked suspicious; it was wiser to look casual. Though a little elven girl, all alone in a tavern of Orgrimmar, was highly uncommon, that stranger sure wasn't aware of that.

He was one of those bears, those walking, talking bears from an island somewhere nobody knew where. She had heard rumors, that it wasn't even an island but a gigantic turtle, with cities and woodlands on it. – All of it bullshit, of course. Shenna had seen turtles before; no way could any of those get that big. The whole "Wandering Isle"-thing must be a metaphor or something…

It didn't matter anyway. Her stomach growled, her last meal was… when? Yesterday? Or the day before? Since she left the Orphanage she had lived on the streets. The matron had advised her to go to her own people, somewhere on the other continent, but this was her home, not to mention that a ride with the zeppelin would be far beyond from what she could ever dream to spend. Besides, she couldn't remember anywhere else than this busting, crowded city that was the capital of the Horde. She had lived here all her life…

Ah, he was ordering another beer, even though his own was still half full. Whether due to that enormous belly or some freaking genetic feature, but this guy was pouring the stuff down as if it was water. At least it meant he had the money to spend it on – which meant she would survive for another couple of days.

There, the barmaid came already, a satisfied smile around her small pointy tusks to have such a thirsty customer. Her brown braids draped over her shoulders and back, the busty orc lady didn't bother the thin elven kid in her tavern – stray kids often came here, and as long as they kept their business in a low fashion, the innkeepers didn't mind them much. Everyone had to earn a living after all…

The pandaren thanked the orc, emptied his older mug and passed it to her, before paying all his attention to his new brew, and another smaller portion of said attention to his little but curious company. In a word, he was distracted enough for her to make her move.

People often considered her to be a rogue, but the only things she had ever learned, was how to steal, without alerting the owner, and how to pick a lock. And she had taught herself, simply out of need. She always planned to save some coin to pay a trainer to teach her some tricks with a dagger, but up to this day there hadn't been anything she could have saved at all…

There it was, a small richly decorated pouch, dangling at his belt made of thick rope, knotted up at his front under his big belly. It was fortunate, that he had that little crowd around him; neither he nor they would notice a little kid joining them for a while. For a moment she was surprised by how easy the leather pouch could be removed. Her long delicate fingers grabbed it effortlessly, its weight indicating that there was still plenty of coin left in it. Maybe enough for dagger lessons? And a real dagger, too?

She didn't leave immediately, though; instead, she stood a little while longer, ignoring her basic instincts to get _the hell_ out of that tavern. But that would cause alarm; people running away always caused attention – the very thing they usually wanted to avoid. That much she had learned in these past years…

After a few more minutes in which the bear man's voice ran over her like a dark river, without her listening to the words, she shrank back from the audience and left the inn, all the while forcing her legs to move as slow as possible. Out of the tavern, onto the dusty street under an unforgiving sun, she kept herself in the shadows, finally allowing her feed to run as fast as they could, her precious booty hidden under her ragged tunic. While keeping her head low, it was hard to tell, if she was an elf. In the shadows, her dirty figure was that of a bony adolescent, without any indication if she was a troll or maybe an orc.

Down the Drag. High above, the rock chasm was covered with sturdy blankets, giving shade to those below. Just a little more, and avoid the open streets and the crossroad… finally there. The cave opened before her, a long tunnel leading down into the Cleft of Shadows.

Certainly no place for a child, but like many other homeless kids, Shenna, too, had recognized the advantages of this huge cave. No questions were asked here, and unless you bothered your own business, there wasn't anything to fear down here… except the occasional Kor'kron raid, grumpy merchants, living shadows and demons, or other, _older_ kids, harassing the younger ones. She knew all about that, especially since she was considered to be one of the younger ones… one of the weak ones. These other children were the one thing she really feared down here…

Clutching down onto the pouch, she climbed her way up to another narrow cave, a little crate, which she occupied since a few weeks. Who knew when she would be forced to leave from here, too?

Settling down on the rag, that was her blanket in those chilling nights, as well as a carpet, to sit on, she opened the satchel with trembling fingers –

"Excuse me, young one. But I believe that pouch there belongs to me…"

* * *

Shenna's heart was anywhere, but not in her chest anymore. It seemed to be racing off like a spooked zhevra, running mindlessly without direction or thought. And left her behind, petrified on the spot while a huge shadow engulfed her little shack. With a heavy thud, the pandaren settled his fat bulk in the opening of her cave, his sheer size cutting off any escape route, she might have taken.

Extending his hand, more a paw with small pointy claws and dark grayish fur, she passed him the pouch. Mute, and with trembling lips, her eyes followed his movements as he reattached the pouch at his belt, her mind as blank as her empty loft.

Finished with his pouch, the bear with his almost black and white fur looked back at the bony elf. "Well?" he asked.

She blinked. Well _what_?

"You're the hostess, are you not?" he went on. "I am your guest. Shouldn't you serve something? It is what hosts do." He made a pause. "Well, at least they used to do that where I come from. Maybe it is different with you? Please, tell me. There is much I have to learn still."

It must be his voice, or at least the sound of it. Like in the tavern, she didn't really hear him. Oh, she did hear him, but his words just didn't seep in… like quick water, simply rushing over rocks.

A grumbling sound roused her from her stupor. Flinching at the sudden sound, her hand clamped down on her belly, however, unable to quiet her angry stomach…

"Oh, I see." The pandaren chuckled. "A hostess, who cannot satisfy her own belly, would have difficulties in satisfying someone of my… let's say, volume." Did he just wink at her? However, his chuckle left her a little more relaxed, and she flashed him an uneasy smile.

"How about this, little one," – did he ever stop talking? – "since you cannot provide any food for either of us, how about if I would invite you? Eating all on your own is a sad business; it's always more fun with some nice company." He rose from the ground, his movements strong and fluent, as if he didn't have any bones in his massive furred body. Making his descent from her cave, he turned around. "Well?"

* * *

Shenna didn't quite believe what was happening here. The pandaren walked casually through the gloomy Cleft, not bothering the glares and suspicious looks of the inhabitants. She on the other hand, kept herself in the shadows, unwilling to get any closer to him down here. Yet, he had offered her a meal… at least something to eat. She wasn't stupid or careless, but she lived in an almost constant condition of hunger. She wanted to live, she wanted to survive, and she wouldn't turn away such an invitation, even if her mind came up with a dozen possible ways of how bad this could turn out… She just had to stay on her guard then.

Finally leaving the Cleft, she closed up on him, following him only one step behind. Up here it could be a good thing to walk in the shadow of someone as prominent as he was… A scanty elven kid wouldn't attract much attention in his presence… at least, that's what she hoped. She tried to be alert, but it seemed to be more difficult with each step she followed him. He simply lacked any trace of danger.

Normally, people would have beaten the ever loving crap out of her, if they caught her picking their stuff. And sometimes… they did worse things… than just beating… He on the other hand didn't seem to be angry or anything like that at all. As if he was truly delighted to have met her, even under these circumstances… But then again, she hadn't gotten far with her booty; he didn't seem to have any trouble with tracking her down in her little hideout… Maybe he thought she wasn't worth to be angry at.

The inn, where he let her, was busting and crowded. They were in the Valley of Strength, most of the city's merchants could be found here, as well as the bank and the auction house. Usually this was the best surrounding for rogues and their shady business. But not for inexperienced kids. Shenna once had a dreadful meeting with a big troll warrior… bad enough for her to forever shun this place like she would the Plague…

Inside, the innkeeper quickly placed his new costumer and his attachment on a table in a corner. Even though they got curious glances from the other guests, the pandaren ignored them and settled his big bottom onto the poor bench. If she got it right, than he already ate his fill just recently – did he really wanted to get some more? He didn't look like he needed it… otherwise, he also didn't look like someone, who would consider skipping dinner.

With a smile, he gestured her to the opposite bench. Quickly she got settled, into the corner and pressed against the wall, which got her a query lifted brow from her host. She was stiff and edgy, her eyes raced fearfully back and forth, searching desperately for any clue of a trap. This _could_ only be a trap –

"What can I get you?" the bulky innkeeper asked. With his heavy body, he was the imprint of a warrior in Shenna's eyes, but with a dirty apron, which gave him an almost comical appearance – if it wasn't for all those muscles, constantly moving taut under his stretched green skin…

"Oh, just two mugs of your finest brew and two nice healthy meals of your menu," the pandaren said, his amicable smile never leaving his features.

She suppressed a little squeak, as her host returned his attention to her. "What about you, little one?" he asked. "As far as my knowledge goes, you must be one the Blood Elves. I met some your people before, but never a cub. I do have to admit, everything is very new to me," – he laughed, – "so I think when it comes to knowledge about the Horde you must be far superior to me.

"How is it to live here? I do realize, it must be difficult for someone as young as you, but I'm sure it must be a creative experience. So many different cultures and people, my, this city is sheer bursting with energy." That moment, a barmaid came by, placing two full mugs of beer before them and two highly loaded plates with meat, vegetables and some bread.

"And you are in its very heart. Tell me, little one, how come that the Horde build its capital here? Even though the orcs and trolls seem to have a liking for this unforgiving climate, it seems, not many of the others share their ordeal. What do you think of it?"

Somewhere in the middle of his monologue, Shenna's attention had shifted. The moment the heavy plates and beer was placed before her, common sense simply snapped off.

She just stared. Never before in her life had she seen so much food, and it was all meant for her? This must be a dream. A cruel, yet oh so delicious dream. Just looking at this, almost sated her hunger… almost. An angry growl again brought her back to present time; even with a pandaren sitting opposite of her, a full plate of food was just too good to be true.

"Oh, yes," her host staid apologetically, "I forgot. Please, enjoy your meal. I hope it is to your liking. I have to admit, it is not really my people's style, but it is interesting, still. And new lands mean new flavors, don't you agree?"

Part of her brain settled on the simple fact that this guy really loved to talk – a lot. The majority of her, focused on eating. She didn't even stop to take a look at what she ate there, or the spicy flavors and scents, which assaulted her senses. There was only that void in her stomach that ached to be filled. If this was trap… well, he couldn't prove anything, if the grunts would ask. After all, she didn't have his pouch anymore or any other belongings somebody else could claim. Still, she ate as fast as she could, even beyond the point of where her body told her, that it simply had enough; however, you could never know when you would get your next meal…

But for her half grown body, which was used to a state close to famine, this treatment was hard to stand. Taking some sips of the beer, it eased the chaotic situation in her midst a bit, but the feeling, to burst any next second, was very prominent…

"So, where did we left off?" the Pandaren mused. Unlike her, he had emptied his whole plate. To her shame, she had barely eaten half of it… though she sure felt like she had. "I think, I asked you about this fascinating city's history. Why was it built here? It is much protected through the clefts, and even the heat doesn't seem to bother many people. But still, why here?"

She didn't have the time to reply, he simply went on with his monologue. "You see, in my school, our teachers tell us to ask questions, to not take things for granted, no matter how ordinary they seem to be. Because, we believe nothing is for free, nothing is normal – normality is an illusion.

"So, to see this city makes me think, that those who live here, people like you, view it as something normal, maybe something that'll be here forever. But I've been taught that there are no such things. Which makes me wonder, how was this city created? Why is it a military stronghold? What is its history? –

"Oh, I see. A young cub like you must have many other concerns than this, no?"

She swallowed, feeling a little cornered and forced to give an answer, any answer. "Well…" she started hesitantly. "I… do not know much about Orgrimmar's past. The city was founded not long ago by the previous warchief, Thrall. He is a shaman now… and he left Garrosh Hellscream in charge. Oh, and the name is related to another orc, Orgrim Doomhammer. He was a hero, a chief of an orc clan… the Blackrocks, and was killed by humans. He was a good friend and mentor of Thrall, too."

"Hm…" It was hard to tell if her information's satisfied the pandaren. Maybe that was his plan? To ask her questions, she couldn't answer, and then… do something sinister? "I had hoped to learn a little more. Normally, if I ask people something, they turn tables on me and ask questions to me instead. After a while, it does get a little… irritating, if you get my meaning." He smiled again, not that it ever left him, but now it grew a little strained.

Biting her lips, her fingers were busy with themselves… "I'm sorry," she mumbled finally. "In the Orphanage, they taught us, how to read and write, and simple mathematics. But… there wasn't much they told us about history… just some basics. And… I haven't been the best pupil at school."

She didn't know what, but something in her little tale got his eyes back to sparkle with glee. "So, tell me," he leaned forward. "You can read, and write?"

She blinked. "Yes." Of course. And she spoke a little Thalassian, her people's language…

He clapped his hands. "Splendid," he said joyfully. "Then you can read and write those orcish runes?" – She nodded. – "I have to admit, I tried my best, but my old eyes simply cannot see those lines anymore… and I think, my poor head simply refuses to accept such complex schematics." Leaning back in his chair, he stroked his silver grey beard. The barmaid had already removed their plates and a new mug of ale waited before Shenna's host.

Lost in thought, he was silent for a while. A while, in which the little elf shifted on her seat uneasily, her hands clamped in her lap, her eyes roaming the inn again, searching for any signs of danger. How could someone talk so much and be so quite the next moment? Were all pandaren like that?

All of a sudden, he clapped in his hands. "I have a proposal, little one," he started. "Since we both seem to have… gabs in our education and since there is so much we both can learn, how about if we join forces? You'll teach me about your people here, and I'll tell you about mine."

"Yeah… but… there isn't much I can tell you," she stammered.

"Ah," he waved away her comment, "but that is no trouble. You can read, right? You can learn everything from a library – and then you tell me."

"Erm… well… I…" It was gloomy in the crowded inn, yet the wide open eyes of the elven child could be seen from the other side of the tavern, like two big shiny orbs. How to answer that? "Al... right…?"


	2. Lectures about Balance

**Lectures about Balance**

"Always keep in mind, my students, inaction means to be passive, it means stagnation. It is the greatest threat of all. While capable of action, you enable yourself to shape the world around you. But it also means to stay vigilant, always. The decisions you make, could be the wrong ones the next day.

"Every morning you have to ask yourself, are things as they ought to be? Or am I the one, who has it all wrong?

"That my students, is one of the keys of our honorable school. Do not allow hesitation or fear to overcome your readiness to act. Because they are the demons, which reside in each and every one of us. The hard part comes when you have to face them. And then, only then, will we see if you are worthy. Worthy to take part in this ever changing world."

The moment her mouth opened, she knew, she would say something wrong. "But what if our decisions are wrong? What if the answer to something is just a question of time?"

Master Huong's brows knitted on his white furred forehead, something that didn't happened often – yet she always succeeded in that. Inwards she groaned about herself. "Time is never the answer," the pandaren boomed. "It's the energy that matters here. Positive energy is created whenever you take the initiative, and even if you are wrong, in the end, something good comes from it.

"Look at what our revered student, Ji Firepaw, did, to save the grand turtle, Shen-zin Su. If he hadn't acted, the Wandering Isle would have died and with it everyone living on it."

"Yes, but in doing so he blew a crater into the turtle's side, almost killing it." – Cursed be her tongue… – "Surely they would have found another way to save Shen-zin Su, if they would have given it a little more thought…"

"Given more thought, the turtle would have died," Master Huong shouted, his whole face crumbled in anger. "This is the very example which proves the rightness of action rather than adjourns. Positive energy, positive action, it means to shape your own fate –"

"But doesn't fate happen by itself…"

Now he was literally boiling… "I have enough of this! I cannot teach the lessons of our faithful school with so many interruptions! You! Leave! Now! And go report to Master Zhao immediately! I refuse to waste my time on a hopeless case such as you! Get out of my sight!"

* * *

She shouldn't be surprised. After all, her quick tongue had caused enough trouble in the past. First, earning her slaps and, or beatings by the matron and other kids, and now unending chores and extra chores whenever she did what their masters told them to do: using her head and challenging what she'd learned. Well, she should listen to her master better. After all, he had explained it to her several times: There was a time in a student's life, where he just had to listen and to remember. After that, and only then, after many lessons, was the students allowed to use his own brain and rethink the lessons. And she wasn't even close to that level…

Sighting, she closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall, exhausted after hours of working. It was late already, the sun hung low and nightfall was close. After Master Huong had thrown her out of class, she went to her mentor, Master Zhao, who had initiated her into the Huojin School here in Orgrimmar, and confessed her failure. Master Zhao, ever patient and calm, had given her that sad look, the one made her insides coil with guild. And with a sigh, he gave her the chores for the rest of the day.

It was a sad thing, really, but this trouble occurred every few weeks. Master Zhao would have her do endless tasks, as was expected from him; after that, she would listen to him and another grandmaster, about why she was wrong and that it was improper to argue with a master, any master. And she agreed every time, and for the next few weeks, she would bite her tongue – and then it all started again.

Never before had she thought that she would be so much trouble to teach. When Master Zhao offered her this cooperation, she hadn't realized just what that meant: She would become his disciple.

She joined the monks in Orgrimmar and became a novice; they were all part of a special school, called _Huojin_. That was now one year ago, one year in which she was taught their unique fighting style and, which was much more important according to anyone she asked, the whole philosophy behind it.

Since she and Master Zhao had this agreement, she would spend her evenings brooding over scrolls, which she would later recapitulate to her master, while the other students enjoyed what little they had left as free time. She was twenty years old now; she had been sixteen when she was thrown out of the Orphanage, it had been the official end of her childhood. After that personal cataclysm, she had spent three years surviving on the streets of Orgrimmar. Years in which she lost… everything. She had been dirt, less than dust on the road. And now, in this last year, she had the chance to make something of herself, to become… somebody. In this year, she managed to avoid all those places, where she had been as a street urchin, never meeting or seeing any of her old… companions.

However, now it seemed she had reached the limits of pandaren tolerance: The Huojin Masters gathered to decide about her further fate. And it didn't look like they would let her off the hook this time. She doubted that she could bear her master's disappointment again…

* * *

"Windkin."

She jumped in her seat; Ji Firepaw had entered the hallway without making any noise – which was to be expected. After all, he was the most famous member of their school for good reason. They said he had defeated gigantic beasts, which belonged to the Warchief, all by himself, to prove the worth of the pandaren monks as new members of the Horde. He was no Huojin Master himself, he was simply too young yet, but he was the pandaren representative and spoke in their name. And he sat next to her on the cold bench.

"They are going to throw me out, right?" she asked tiny voiced, toying with a strand of her ember hair.

"If they would, would it be a bad thing?" he retorted.

Shenna frowned. "Of course," she answered puzzled. "I would lose my home, my… my friends… my life." Yes, losing her place here would mean to lose her life. She was average in her martial classes, average in the theoretical lessons… history had been her asset, so far, also due all of those extra lessons she had with Master Zhao. However, it wouldn't help her to find work in this city, and her skills were not enough yet to become a mercenary, and she was simply too young: With twenty, an orc was long since an adult, probably with his own family, but elves majored around their thirties… She would end up on the streets again, an urchin, a crouched something that tried desperately to stay invisible… She bit her lips, tears welling up.

"You know, I think it would be great to leave," Ji said thoughtfully, chewing on a weed. "I would like to travel this new world, to see the land beyond this desert. There is a gigantic forest not so far from here, unbelievable, don't you think?" He looked down at her teary face.

"I promise, I'll do everything, _anything_, to stay here," she cried, mopping her sleeve over her eyes. "I… I will gag myself during lesson, and I will do all the chores of the others. I won't say a word, unless I'm told to. Just… just don't send me away."

Ji was silent for a moment. "Why are you so scared of the world?" he finally asked.

Sniffing, she looked up. "It's not the world, it's being alone again that scares me. There is no place for me here, not in the Horde, and surely not in this world… well, maybe as a hooker, but who would _want_ to be that?" Not to mention the fact, that she was probably the most unattractive female walking the streets of Orgrimmar. She was still bony from those long years of virtual famine, her arms and legs like twigs. Her master had taken it a personal pursue to feed her up, but it had only resulted in her becoming fat in those places where it wasn't attractive. Her ginger hair was a messy bird's nest, her nails bore signs of her constant gnawing, and her knees and elbows were scabby.

Blood elves were normally considered to be beautiful, even to other race's eyes. But not Shenna. If it wasn't for her glowing green eyes and that elongated ear, people wouldn't take her for an elf at all… It was just one ear; the other one was tattered and barely visible under that hairy mess of hers…

"Who said, you would go alone?" She blinked, looking up disbelieving. Ji was shrugging, yet unable to quench that smirk on his snout. "If they decide to send you in the field, they wouldn't send you alone that would be against the rules. After all, you're still just a novice…"

Shenna blinked again, staring down at her toes. They wanted to sent her away… with someone else? She bit her lip. "But I don't want to leave," she mumbled stubbornly. "I want to stay here…"

Ji sighted, looking at some spot opposite of them at the wall. "Traveling is an important part in everyone's life," he said. "Especially in our pandaren history, traveling and exploring is held in high esteem. All of us are children of great explorers, who accompanied the greatest explorer in our race's history, Liu Lang. You could say, adventure lies in our very blood." He smiled.

"Not in mine," Shenna whispered darkly. "My parents went on adventures with the Horde, and it killed them both." A simple truth: both her parents joined a group of Horde adventurers after the blood elves joined them. They had taken little Shenna with them, first to the Barrens, than Ashenvale, and one day they simply didn't return… Her parent's companions had brought her back to Orgrimmar and to the Orphanage; she had been nine years old back then. They said, they would look after her from time to time, and maybe, one day she would become an adventurer like her parents and join them. But… they didn't come back for her, either. And when she turned sixteen, she had to leave this childhood sanctuary. Now she had found a new one, and she'd be damned if she would let herself getting thrown out so soon…

"That's sad," Ji said. "But you know, fear is a bad teacher…"

"That may be so, but I prefer to stay where I know what to expect," she grumbled. "Not everyone is made for adventures and such, and I surely make up for that list…"

Ji pondered a moment. "So, it's the unknown you fear," he mused. "That's a classic. It's the same with people who fear the darkness. When they can't see their surroundings, they experience fear. But, hey, it's no shame to be afraid of something, fear is a totally natural feeling, and it helps people to survive. The tricky part comes when you have to manage the courage to overcome and face your fears."

This was no news: her masters said this about ten times every hour. Shenna dug her nails into the wooden bench they sat on. "There are enough monks, who stay at home and who are perfectly fine there," she mumbled tightly. "No reason for me to go away just for educational motives…"

"Those monks usually already know who they are," Ji pointed out. "Do _you_ know who you are?"

Her mouth opened to answer, yet no words came out. _Who am I?_ Stupid question. It was that kind of those questions that always annoyed her. It didn't matter who she was, what mattered was that she survived. Knowing who she was, didn't pay her food and shelter, it didn't teach her how to fight or how to survive in the wilderness, or in the city. Those useless, good-for-nothing questions where reserved for those men and women, who had time and money enough to bother… And she, Shenna, wasn't part of that privileged group. Being hungry all the time and sometimes days without a meal weren't the best basics for philosophy… She still felt hungry every day, even after dinner, like a constant reminder of her street urchin-life – to which she didn't want to return.

"Does it matter?" she grumbled.

"Of course it does," Ji replied. "Knowing that means to know, what you want of life…"

"I don't want anything of life; I just want to _live_."

"Well, now you have the chance to get both. So why not go and try it out?"

She buried her face in her palm, while Master Zhao joined them on the bench in the dimly lit hallway. Fat and round as usual, the grayish pandaren had his ever tranquil smile on his features; she couldn't see it, but she knew it was there, she could… feel it.

"You realize, I won't be able to keep my part of our bargain, when I leave Orgrimmar," she said hopefully, referring to those long hours in which she taught him about history, politics and so on, about everything she studied on her own whenever she wasn't in lessons with the other novices…

Master Zhao's smile just got deeper, very much to her dismay. "Ah, don't worry about that, little Windkin," he replied. "We will take some tomes with us for you to read and I can teach the normal lessons to you. Except for the place, the day's routine will be the same."

Shenna pouted. "Yes, sure, reading scrolls and tomes while running from some crazy night elves and dwarfs can't possibly be a difference to – wait, _we_?" She blinked, straightening up.

Master Zhao's smile grew deeper still. "Of course," he said, winking at her. "I still want to learn more about these fascinating lands. Actually, I hoped that we could someday travel outside this city's walls. Orgrimmar is interesting and captivating, but I think, both of us are ready to face what lies beyond."

Leaving the safety and security of the city behind… with her friend and mentor? "I think… that's not so bad than…" Not so bad at all!

"As if you would have any say in the matter," an angry voice rasped. The other four Huojin grandmasters came past them, Master Huong still grumpy as he glared at her. Obviously, he was disappointed by the decision made about her future fate, and somehow that was quite pleasing for her: if Master Huong disagreed in the matter, it meant that it could only be beneficial for her. Slowly, she felt her spirits rising again…

"You are very unbalanced within your spirit, Windkin," Master Luteng said, his deep voice almost vibrating the air around them. "That is to be expected, given your troubled past. Before you can continue the advanced classes, however, you have to find out who _you_ are, where you are from. And how better to find that out as to travel the world?"

Well, that blew that little spark within her out again. Shenna pressed her lips into a line and nodded in silence; not that she really agreed, though… No more words were spoken as the grandmasters and Ji retreated, leaving her to her thoughts.

What did she know about herself? She was a blood elf, an orphan… She knew a lot about blood elven history now, how and why they joined the Horde, how their kingdom was founded, she knew about the pillars of their society… Thing was… I have _no_ idea what it means to be a blood elf. Was that it? To learn about how to be a blood elf?

That somehow bothered her. It didn't really occurred to her while she was still on the streets, but now that she was associating with normal folks more frequently, she couldn't ignore it any longer: people viewed her as a blood elf, and somehow seemed to expect something from her. And she had no idea what that could be, and every time she left, she had the impression that she had just failed a test.

She had the same feeling, whenever she saw others of her kin, other blood elves, adult ones, those who were raised in that magical kingdom beyond the ocean, those without any doubt of who and what they were: warriors of the Horde, powerful spellcasters, disciplined healers. They all wore that stern, no-nonsense look and she always felt intimidated by their flawless appearance. Intimidated and shy, she always avoided coming close to them. Even just looking at them made it starkly obvious that she was different… that she wasn't like them.

To other races, she was a blood elf; however, a real blood elf would immediately see that she wasn't. And that left her with the question: what else, if not a blood elf, could she be? Was it even possible to learn it?

Frowning, she stood up, following her master to their quarters. Maybe it was this very thing that the masters wanted her to learn…? The more she thought about it, it dawned to her that this journey wasn't as useless as she'd thought initially.


	3. Welcome to the Jungle

**Welcome to the Jungle**

"Welcome, Passengers, on the _Shining Eagle_. If you'd be so kind, in case of any nausea, don't hesitate to stay close to the guard rail – and lean over as far as possible, don't spoil the ship. As for any newcomers, this is a ship of the Steemwheedle Cartel; any faction related brawls and, or disputations are to be _cut out_ until we reach the Barrens. In case of not behaving, the individuals will stay downstairs inside their cabins, enjoying the company of our bruisers. Any questions? No. Welcome on board. Make yourself at home – which means _don't_ make yourself at home."

Shenna, waiting silently for their cargo, heard this little speech for the second time now – the first was in Ratchet, three weeks prior when they were boarding the ship. And now she heard it again while leaving it, in Booty Bay. Oh, thank goodness, she finally had firm ground under her feet again… well, it wasn't real ground, just a wooden gangway, but it didn't swoon and rock as the ship had done.

It was busy on the landing. Passengers were shoving around, sailors shouted at each others, and seagulls screeched and flew overhead. If that wasn't enough to overwhelm her, the mix of humanoid races standing and walking and pushing and waiting, certainly did. On the ship, she'd already had her fill of humans, who were part of the ship's crew. She'd had a hard time to not openly stare at them. Unfortunately, those sailors would notice and within short notice she'd become their most favorite target for numerous lewd comments.

Shenna would fly downstairs every time such a situation would occur, flushed like a ripe tomato. She knew they would never assault here and that they were merely teasing her; however, knowing that didn't save her from many unpleasant memories, that washed up her mind. She wasn't without her experiences with males – yet those had never, _never ever_ been good. So, after their first week on board, she kept herself close to Master Zhao and her eyes locked on the floor. Even when her sea sickness drove her on deck, she always made sure, he was close. Though save, it didn't ease her discomfort and every salacious comment put her on edge.

However, now off the ship, her young eyes saw many other races gathering in this port town of which she had only heard of in her books. There were night elves, at least she thought they were: Tall, muscled, with broad shoulders and slim waists, with blue and purple skin and wild hair; so alien in comparison to their blood elven cousins… And there were rough looking dwarves and funny gnomes. And there, a _Worgen_! – It was all she could to keep her mouth from gaping… And many humans, again; these ones, however, were adventurers, heavy armed despite the heat. Races of the Horde, too, were here, and even with so many Alliance members around, they behaved themselves decent, friendly, some of them even talking and laughing with each other.

Gui, the giant Dragon Turtle, finally left the ship's storage space, let by a bored looking goblin. While Master Zhao overly thanked the little green man for his service and checked his mount's satchels, Shenna tried to keep as far in the shadows as possible. Nobody around here was unfriendly, but a pandaren and a dragon turtle were by no means a common sight here, and she practically felt every pair of eyes glued upon them…

Finally done, they made their way to the inn, all the while Master Zhao continued talking, not bothering all those curious stares. "I heard this inn is a remarkable place," he said. "One of those few inns around the world, where people of all factions and races can meet on neutral ground. I am so excited, are you not? To think about that this is where you meet your enemy as a friend… Do you think we can share some beer with a worgen? I hope there is still one here in town… And did you see those night elves? I'm sure, you would like to engage with them; after all, both your races share a common history, does it not?" – And so on.

Shenna, who kept herself close to Master Zhao's broad back as they ambled over the wooden planks of the landing, just "mhmm"-ed and nodded at any of his commends, only half listening to him. Like on the landing, she had the undeniable impression, that the two of them and Gui, the Dragon Turtle, were just as interesting to the residents and visitors of Booty Bay as they found them: the fat Pandaren and the slim Blood Elf, who was almost tripping on his heels.

All the while, a strange smell filled her nose when she followed Master Zhao over the landing. It was a mix of seawater, salt, dried and rotting kelp, and fuel – the later was biting her senses. This smell she knew from Orgrimmar: There was a district, part of the slums, occupied by goblins, leering creatures with an unhealthy relationship with money… She'd always avoided it.

Would Booty Bay be like that, too? She couldn't tell. While her wide eyes stared around, watching all these new people, she only saw the obvious: it was a busy town, noisy and crowded. Life was bursting out of every corner, and merchants!, merchants everywhere. Almost every chat, she overheard, was about a deal or something similar, some gossip here and there. Though she could barely grasp her surroundings, she silently begged for another pair or ears and eyes, or even five more pairs! It was just too much to take in, and she wasn't even noticing half of it!

"Ah, the inn," Master Zhao finally said. "A worthy place from which to start our journey through the jungle. And after this boat trip, my poor belly needs a little rest; and from the look at your face, young Windkin, yours, too."

He was right: now that her stomach was coming down from the rocking ship, it reminded her that it still needed food. On the boat, she'd barely eaten anything, except some bread and tea. The rebellion has been kept low that way, but now they demanded more to feed her traumatized tummy…

"Let's see if the inn is as inviting as this busting little town."

After Gui was left at the local stables, they entered the inn at the very end of the landing. It was rough and gloomy, lit by some candles and a hearth; inside, the damp jungle air was filled with heavy smoke, which made her choke and her eyes swim. As expected, Master Zhao went straight for the innkeeper, a dirty goblin mopping at an equally dirty mug; yet, her master's tranquil smile never left his features.

"Good day, my dear fellow," Master Zhao jovially greeted the goblin behind the desk, who just grunted in response. "My student and I would like to rent one of your rooms. Two beds, if you please, and a bathroom, if that is possible. After this long journey, it is a blessing to be back in a stationary house…"

Shenna only half listened to their conversation. Just like on the boat and while walking through Booty Bay, part of her old Me reawakened, making her edgy and almost fearful. Due to her long forgotten habit, her glowing eyes scanned the room intently, especially those costumers seated in the dark, ominous corners. Since it was already dark inside, there were even more nooks and niches to be unseen in. Good thing her eyesight was remarkable in the dark, she thought smugly, when she noticed another man, a large figure in dark leathers, sitting in one of these corners. Well, he wasn't actually hiding, but he surely was the sort of man who kept to himself… A night elf, from the look at those silver glowing eyes… And why did he stare at her like that? –

"Windkin, isn't this remarkable." She flinched when Master Zhao suddenly spoke directly at her. "This nice innkeeper just gave us two of his best bedrooms, with an extra bathroom in between." Sniffing rather audibly at his arm, he laughed and added, "I do believe, we both could use the benefits of that. Come along."

Hearing that, the shady inn and its shadier innkeeper suddenly became brighter.

* * *

Water and soap was flowing from her head, when she reemerged. The Water was neither cold nor warm, it had a pleasant temperature in this hot and humid jungle air. Despite her first impression, the inn was in far better shape than she'd thought. It was mostly clean, the bed wasn't occupied by vermin, and the window's glass was whole. Decent.

While the water was dripping down her head and shoulders, she mused silently: Just a year ago, any place remotely like this would seem like heaven to her. Inaccessible for stray kids, a forbidden palace hidden behind doors. Only rich people, people with money, could afford doors, with a lock and a key. All her life, she'd had neither of that. In the orphanage, she'd slept in a large dormitory, with ten to twenty beds lined up at both walls. However, in wartimes when men and women, fathers and mothers, dropped like flies, those beds were often occupied by two or three children at once…

Strange, how fast one got used to another standard. Since she'd become a novice, she had to adhere to a new set of rules, which included her personal hygiene. While living on the streets, she had never given that another thought except the occasional dive in a shallow pool. Now, she had to relearn how to use a sponge and soap… and the value of clean water.

Rising from the tub, she leaned over, grasping a bucket with clean water. Emptying it over her head, she hummed in bliss as foam and every last bit of dirt was finally washed off. That boat tour wasn't all too bad, but the salty spray and air had plastered all over her and made her feel sticky. And sweet water was too valuable to be used as bathing water… Good thing to be back on land again. Stepping out of the tub, she wrung the last remains of water out of her soaking hair, which was now a nice dark red, like wine. Picking up the towel, she kept humming that melody, she couldn't remember anymore, and turned to the small mirror over a desk.

Her reflection was the usual: darkened skin, burned by the searing sun of Durotar, and red, wavy hair that now lay plastered on her head. Only in this state, it revealed her one ear, the left one, the tattered one. The top missed and the edge, where it was bitten off by that troll, was ragged and torn… Tenderly, her fingertips reached for the ripped –

A hard knock at her door. "Meet me downstairs, Windkin." It was Master Zhao – who else? "Night is falling fast and I need to refill my bodily stocks." He laughed at his own joke. Not waiting for her response, he walked off.

Sighting in relieve, Shenna dropped her towel, slowly relaxing. She loved her master, but sometimes he just spoke so loud, it startled her…

Sliding into a clean set of teal colored clothes, wide trousers, sandals and a silken tunic, she took her other set of garment, she had worn on the ship, she threw them into the bath tub. Rubbing dirt and salt out of the fabric didn't take long. Draping them over a post to dry, she scanned their rooms one last time before leaving.

* * *

Dawn was already over and a humid, heavy night sank down on Booty Bay. It was a city build and managed by goblins. It was a place of commerce and trade. And entertainment, since there was enough money to be made in that specific field. More than that, it was a good base of operation into the jungle of Stranglethorn. It was a hostile environment after all: wild and powerful beasts; equally wild, yet much more powerful jungle trolls; cunning pirates, and murderous naga. Not to mention a tribe of ogres. Shenna would love to see one of those; however, the fact that the ogres wouldn't hesitate to squeeze the life out of her, kept her enthusiasm at a low level.

The inn had been darkly during the day, with lots of shady folk. Now, as she drew closer, she didn't need her excellent ears to hear the cheering noise from downstairs, the humming of countless voices talking, some music, too, orders given at the innkeeper and the barmaids, shouting from one end of the tavern to the other. And the closer she came, the louder it got…

Just as expected, Master Zhao was the proclaimed attraction of tonight. While he unhurriedly shoved his meal and drank his beer, that seemed to be refilled magically every time he got close to emptying it, a curious crowd had gathered around him. And even those, who kept their distance from the exotic bear-man, had their eyes resting upon him occasionally. Shenna, looking down into the tavern's room, silently admired her master's calm demeanor, while he tranquilly answered every question and held a conversation with everybody who wanted to. And he did so without slowing with his meal.

Crowded as it was, she snaked through the patrons, trying not to bump into anyone. Not looking into anyone's face, either, she aimed for Master Zhao, or at least she hoped that she was going into the right direction… Hard to tell when everybody around you was nothing but a breathing tower…

"Ah, over here, Little One!" The sound of Master Zhao's voice effortlessly drowning the crowd's noise was music to her ears. Finally settling next to him, she tried to not look into those all too curious glances thrown at her, only when the barmaid put a plate of the same meal as Master Zhao's before her, did she look up to thank the girl – a human, as she noticed now.

The humming of voices rose again. Master Zhao, who seemed to have finished at least two or three large meals, now fully turned to his audience, talking and laughing with some orcs and tauren. There were some Alliance residing here, but even if there were some cross faction conversations, they left her and Master Zhao alone – very much to Shenna's comfort. As neutral as this town was and no matter how much trouble she'd had as a stray kid with members of her own faction; those at least she knew, they were predictable. She knew the signs of an angry tauren, a short-tempered orc or a freaking out troll… even the Forsaken, those undead, had certain signals in their facial expression and stance that told her when she reached delicate ground…

"And you got yourself a blood elf as apprentice? Hah, now I need to know you ended up with her…" A tauren had spoken, brown eyes sparkling in his fair furry cow-face, while he himself wasn't idle with ale either…

"It's not him, who's stuck with me…" Shenna murmured before she could hold her tongue. _Oh, curse it_…

Master Zhao let out one of his bellowing laughs. "True indeed, young one. Ah, a marvelous story, I can tell you. I caught her picking my purse, you see. A swift girl this one, I can assure you. Picked my pocked in the middle of an inn, just like this one – and first I didn't even realize what had happened." He laughed his roaring laugh. "Of course, I was able to find her, and my purse. And ever since that day, we are partners…"

During his speech, Shenna spat her ale and crashed her mug back on the table, staring incredulous at her still laughing master. "What are you going on about?" she cried embarrassed, just barely audible over the roar of laughter. "This is nobody else's business!"

If that was possible, her cry made everyone laugh even louder, making her blush fiercely under her brown skin. Staring scandalized at Master Zhao, who was still laughing, she was smacked and patted goodheartedly on her back and head by numerous strangers.

"But this nice fellow asked, Windkin," Master Zhao replied innocently. "It is not wise to lie on a foreign shore…"

"You could start with it, maybe you'd be surprised how easy it is…" she scoffed, not bothering that she was actually talking to her superior. Her appetite was gone.

What followed were the most embarrassing hours of her life – since she became a novice that was, anything before that didn't count here. Surely it wouldn't take long until the whole port city would know that that little attachment of the pandaren was in truth some little thief who had to serve the monk for trying, and _failing_, to snatch from him!

Her forehead face palmed in her hand, Shenna tried to not to listen to the wild audience. She had to get through with this; otherwise she would never see the end of it… Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long and those people would get bored. And at least there were some kind souls around, gently petting her shoulder; saying that she was doing right and that one day, fortune would smile upon her. They didn't tell her however, how this smile would eventually look like…

* * *

Her patience (or stubbornness) was rewarded after a while: It was already beyond midnight, when the inn's guests decided that the pandaren's attachment wasn't as interesting a subject as it had been a couple hours before. The tavern emptied, residents would return home, guests would seek out their bedrooms to be on their way the next morning. Only a few revelers remained in the dimly lit barroom. Master Zhao, of course, didn't show any sign of weariness, instead his mug was kept being refilled by the barmaid, and the grumpy innkeeper didn't look so grumpy anymore in face of his new favorite costumer.

Shenna, however, felt her lids becoming heavier with every word spoken. Did these people ever sleep? Well, she thought, yawning deliberately, she did; and right now she needed it more than ever. Three weeks of nothing than salt water and a rocking boat, and now at least four ales, or more, drained all by herself these last hours – and it was the real stuff, not that watery brew usually served to her…

"Careful there," an orc chuckled, steadying her as she made her attempt to leave. "You sure, you don't need an escort?" More chuckles rose around the table, making her flush anew.

"I'm fine," she murmured, freeing her arm from the grinning orc, all too aware of her tininess and his huge frame… "Bedroom isn't far…" Hiccupping slightly, she climbed the stairs up to the guestrooms.

As much as Master Zhao loved a good brew, Shenna disliked it just as fiercely – which he knew. Yet, he would always place a well filled mug in front of her, urging her to empty it since it would put some fat on her rips. Truth be told, after one year of making good three years of malnutrition on the streets of Orgrimmar, her master had indeed succeeded in putting some more weight on her.

Now, her legs were trembling as she carefully set one foot before the other, one hand at the wall, steadying her shaking body. Eyes drifting in and out of focus, her hand fumbled in her pouch for the keys while more than once toppling against the walls. Where was her room again? Left or right? And where did she come from? Yes, maybe it was a good idea to take a nap before retiring to her bedroom…

Since when did walls move around? Funny, they had faces… but who were those nice looking lovers, embracing each other? How cute, they had a little baby girl between them… and the male had hair like glowing embers… she liked it…

Oooh, those were big trees! They were easily bigger than the flight towers in Orgrimmar… But it was too gloomy in this forest, not her taste at all… Ah, it brightened up. Now it was all light with scarlet and golden foliage high above her. Silvery trunks rose around her like endless pillars till they reached the sky, and she felt soft moss under her toes. The air smelled fresh and spicy all together, unknown flowers bloomed all around her in various vibrant colors.

Yes, I should take nap… it's so comfortable here… such a beautiful place…


	4. A Novice

**A Novice's confidence**

Lovers… and the male had hair like living flames… Just like me… And that forest… that could be Eversong, if the descriptions were accurate.

Staring thoughtfully at the trees, they passed, both she and Master Zhao sat comfortable on Gui's back; Master Zhao on a cushion with their packs staking around it, while Shenna had made herself a cozy nest behind him, keeping an eye on their rear. Gui wasn't a fast mount, but he was strong and patient and he had so much space that she could easily shift and shuffle around without irritating either the turtle nor her master, who sat stoically in front on his little throne, smoking his long pipe, doing meditating stuff and things, she didn't understand.

She was busy with other stuff occupying her ale battered brain. This morning, she awoke with the most terrible headache she ever had, making her master laugh again and suggesting that they should leave soon, this city being unhealthy for her untrained constitution. She was close to remind him, that it was him who insisted on all that beer… She also found out, not without an embarrassed blush, that one of their "new friends" from the tavern had found her unconscious from the alcohol, snoozing on the floor. Bringing her to bed, the orc in question had told Master Zhao, who'd immediately paid for another round.

The next day , when they finally got their breakfast, it was already noon and many of the other patrons had left the inn. All the better, her head felt like too tight a shell, close to burst off of her shoulders (which would be a blessing, considering the fact that her ale-martyrdom would be over…); the less people she saw, the less voices she would hear, and maybe that would result in her headache to dissipate.

It took a full plate of something, she didn't remember anymore, and some watery wine until she felt remotely like her usual self. Of course, Master Zhao would finish with twice her ration but surprisingly he didn't complain.

"Ah, little Windkin," he said fondly, "it looks like you finally get used to some proper monk-rations, don't you think?" And of course he wasn't finished. "Always remember, food serves as your energy supply. Without it your body lacks the ability to develop the strength you need for several techniques… techniques, by the way, you may learn while we are in this inspiring place. Do you feel the energies of this jungle? So rough and vibrant… so alive? It's the very inspiration we need here. Remember the very beginning of the Path of a Monk: We are protectors and patrons of the weak. But we, too, are just mortals. Sometimes we need to return to the roots to gather back our strength…" And so on and on.

But while they loaded Gui with their numerous packs and supplies, her thoughts shifted back to that night before. She'd had the strangest of all dreams… My parents… I think I saw my parents, and maybe a glimpse of my people's homeland, the Forest of Eversong. It had been so real in her dream… she could clearly remember the mossy ground under her naked feet… and the different smells of the trees around her, the flowers…

Could those be long lost childhood memories? But why now? Never before, neither in those Orphanage years nor while she was an urchin, did she have such dreams… Also while she was a novice she'd never had them… Actually, she had always avoided to even think of it.

Shenna frowned, leaning back against Gui's shell, her eyes wandering high up to the sky, almost not to be seen through the thick evergreen foliage above. She never wanted to think about her parents and the life she might have had. Partly, because she simply didn't remember anything. On the other hand, because she was… angry. So angry…

And there it was, that pit of anger and resentment, both close to rage. Her parents, those _adventurers_ (inwardly, she spat) who left her, the little girl, all alone. Where? In a bloody Horde outpost in Ashenvale! And then their companions came back with promises of taking care of her. And what happened? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Did they come back? No. Did they ever take her with them, as they promised? No.

She wasn't surprised, when her eyes started to water. Just like years ago, when she started to ask these questions, and she never got any answers. She was alone, abandoned, left in a foreign city. She had to learn orcish from the matrons and other kids, and then, when she thought things didn't look all too bad, they declared her an adult and threw her out and onto the dusty streets of Orgrimmar.

Yes, her parents were no memory that stirred any tender feelings inside her. On the contrary, they were the root of everything that went bad in her life…

Except… yes, except Master Zhao!

Blinking away her tears, she kept staring at the sky barely visible between the leafy canopy. He was the bright spot, the only bright spot in her life. He had smiled at her, invited her; and despite everything that had happened before, she had taken that invitation; against all better judgment from her short life's experience.

And now I am a monk – well, almost… not quiet, but close enough… Yes, this happy, all smiling couple that seemed to be her parents since she couldn't come up with a better explanation… their plans hadn't come out as they hoped they would…? – Of course, Shenna knew about most data and events of blood elven history; she knew that their kingdom laid in ruins, and that they only barely escaped a genocide, and that their prince had betrayed them, and that they were addicted, and… and…

Well, with so much shit back home, maybe her parents simply wanted to start a new life… Maybe they took me with them to Kalimdor because they wanted…

She sighted, closing her eyes… Maybe, maybe, maybe… maybe, my ass! What did _she_ know?

* * *

There was one rule if you travel the wilderness, just one, and it decided over life or death: _Always stay on your guard_. If she would have kept a keen eye on their surroundings, maybe she would have noticed their pursuers… They were stealthy and didn't make a sound at all, despite their armor and scales…

Master Zhao… well, he _was_ a Grandmaster of the Huojin. Of course, he noticed what she didn't – which she realized the moment he grabbed her by the collar of her tunic and threw her off the dragon turtle; mere moments before the spear sunk into the cushion where she'd sat just before.

Naga? – Twisting in the air, she had enough time to see Master Zhao rolling into their very midst, effortlessly disabling two of their assailants in the process.

Landing smoothly like a cat, she didn't have time to consider her strategy: seven naga, who'd ambushed them, two more coming for the easy target, the others taking care of the bear-man.

Dodging the first blade strike, Shenna hauled her own sword, blocking, twisting and – throwing both aside. She switched to her staff, blocking the incoming shield slam dealt by her opponent. Clamping the staff under her arm, she jumped back lithely, avoiding the attack of her second enemy, who struck at her, but only cut the air.

It was a whirling dance. She dodged and evaded their attacks while her fists and feet struck repeatedly, unnerving those two naga. She didn't know what had happened to Master Zhao, but if there was anything, she was totally sure about, then that she didn't need to worry about him of all people.

Instead, every fiber of her mind and body focused on these two creatures. Experienced fighters they were, their movements synchronized as if they knew the other ones every move… Just like she did.

Parrying a strike of one jagged blade, her fist shot upwards, clashing with the naga's chin. While it was temporarily toppling over, she rolled side warts, dodging another attack – and another? – Company.

Why wasn't she afraid? Those were naga, serpentine creatures known for their atrocity, their malice, and their connection and devotion to the Old Gods of Azeroth. And they were outnumbering her four to one. – She snickered: Three and a half to one.

"This is gonna be fun…"

It was. This was the first time, she fought with true enemies; foes who wanted to kill her, not fellow novices and monks, who trained with her as her partners. On their way from Orgrimmar down to Ratchet, and certainly not on the direct rout, Shenna and Master Zhao had numerous encounters with wild beasts and some annoying Quilboars. But nothing compared to this! This was real, this was dangerous, this was deathly. She loved it. Her initial shock was forgotten. Mist gathered around her, as she seized her enemies up. They were annoyed, surprised even, that their victim turned out to be tougher than they'd thought…

Thank you, that's all I need to know…

Whirling into the midst of her enemies, Shenna used her summoned mist to confuse the naga. It would dissipate fast, but that was enough time for her to settle this. Closing in fast, she couldn't suppress an amused chuckle, as she ducked under yet another bladestrike – she didn't need to see how it struck the naga's comrade. As she danced around them, her lean body almost dancing in between them, evading their attacks, making them attack each other instead…

Using the surrounding trees and rocks, they were more than mere objects in her close proximity; they turned into her weapons of choice. Jumping onto a boulder, she easily trapped the naga's blade under her feet, before sending it reeling with a well placed kick, which left it stunned for the moment. Another naga approached her, with a vicious looking spear with an axe attached to it. Aiming for her knees, she darted downwards, ducking under the naga's arm before placing a series of punches right under its arm, making it grunt in irritation and pain.

Running up the trunk of the next tree, knowing that her enemies would follow, she grabbed her staff firmly – only to turn and twist in the air, releasing one backbreaking strike. When her feet touched the ground again, two of the naga closest to her were dead – the last? Fled for the save waters.

There was this trick, Master Zhao had told her about; a trick, how to pull your own energy to the surface and outside your body – and use it as a weapon. She had never done that before, always feared that she wasn't ready for such a technique… How silly she sometimes was, unbelievable. As she witnessed the naga warrior disappear between the bushes, the green light in her palm grew – and followed when she released it. She didn't need to see it, she knew that the chi-ball had struck and killed the beast.

The jungle around her was suddenly filled with the buzzing hum of birds and insects, bestial predators and their prey. And leafs, the bushes surrounding her and those centuries old trees… everything was so alive… The very forest was breathing, she could hear its breath, feel it, and how it vibrated through her very body… as if she was part of the forest…

Silly girl, what do you think you are? Of course, you are part of the forest! Just like –

"Master Zhao!" She squealed in delight, as the fat pandaren suddenly emerged out of the green wall that was the jungle.

It was just a split second, such a short notion that she once again doubted that she'd seen it at all, but when he stormed through the brushwood there was a hard streak around his otherwise smiling snoot. His brows were knitted together and his shaded eyes blazed with fierceness she had never seen him with before.

She's almost made a step back, intimidated by her usually funny master, but his predatory aura dissipated that very moment. Slowing down, his face bore again that tranquil expression, she knew him with. Standing still, his hands folded behind his broad back, Master Zhao mindfully looked around the little clearing where they stood. His eyes fell upon the dead naga, struck by her finishing blast, the numerous yet almost invisible traces that spoke of her moves during the fight…

Master Zhao's smile became broader with each passing moment, before regarding her again. "Well, young one," he stated. "What did you learn at this formidable day?"

Pondering a moment, she considered his question. "Borders," she finally said. "I learned that there are no borders, which separate me from my surrounding, or my past. I learned that I am a part of the jungle here, and that it is a part of me, as well. And every attempt, to think otherwise, only slows us, me, down and blinds me…" Holy crap, how did this cross her mind just… just like that? … "And I learned that, if it counts, I'm able to do everything."

Master Zhao seemed hugely satisfied with her answer and nodded in agreement. "Very well, my student, very, very well done. I do believe that our journey won't just be an adventure; it will be the catalyst of many new observations. Recognition, Windkin. Soon you will think just like a true master." With that, he patted her shoulder and let her back to where they had left Gui on the road.

* * *

Their camp for the night was to the east of where the naga had attacked them. "In case, they give it another try, they have to enter Mistvale Valley. For them, it is too far from the open waters of the ocean, so we should be save from them here…" From the naga, but not other vicious beasts.

Yet, as much as the fight this morning had brightened her spirits, the moment they settled down with an ever darker growing night above them, the more her thoughts drifted off to where they had lingered before the attack. And those didn't serve to keep her mood up…

"You are very thoughtful this evening, Windkin," Master Zhao startled her. "Do you review your victorious battle against the naga? …"

Straightening up from her bedroll, Shenna regarded him hesitantly. He knew, she was an orphan, and that she had lived in Orgrimmar almost her entire life – he knew as much about this topic as she did… Slowly, then faster, she told him about what she'd been thinking about the entire day. She also spoke of that dream she'd had the night before, starting with the image of those elves, of which she assumed that they could be her parents… About her bewilderment that she had these images and dreams anyway, since she hadn't been plagued by them all those years before.

"This is not unheard of, young one," Master Zhao finally said. Taking a deep drag from his pipe, his eyes followed the smoke as it ascent between them. "Your life, as you very well know, had been full of challenges, hardship and austerity. You never knew if you would survive the next day, or night.

"Now, however, things have changed." He gave a slight bow in her direction. "You do not need to fear for your life constantly. You have grown in strength and wisdom and confidence at such a rapid pace, even much older and wiser pandaren would be astonished. This journey is more than just study and sightseeing, Windkin, it is a journey do discover who we are – you, just like me. Here, in the wilderness, away from the confines of prying eyes, we are free to let our minds wander, to open ourselves to dreams, and we remember things we haven't thought of for many years." Again, he took a deep drag of his pipe.

She considered his words for another moment before saying, "It is just… unsettling… I don't remember my parents, and now I have this image – of which I don't even _know_ if it's them. At least I have my hair in common with them…"

"And yet, isn't it funny how much the two of _us_ have in common?" Master Zhao asked with a sly wink.

Shenna just blinked blankly.

His smile grew wider. "Remember: the Pandaren of the Wandering Isle are descendents from brave adventurers of my ancestral homeland, Pandaria. These adventures left safety and security behind to travel the world. And isn't that exactly what your parents did?" He gave another wink with his sparkling eyes.

Now, she smiled, too. Maybe being an adventurer, seeking new horizons, wasn't as bad as she always thought…


	5. Wood of Staves

**Wood of Staves**

They broke off their camp the next morning. Shenna felt light hearted with the strength to move mountains, while Master Zhao on the other hand sat on his cushions, alternately watching his map and his apprentice shuffling around. They had numerous packs, that all fitted on Gui's broad shell, even with a canopy for Master Zhao. She wouldn't quite understand why he wanted that thing; he wouldn't get any sunburn… She neither, for that matter. Though, while in the Barrens, that tool had been beneficial…

"If we travel north, we have to be on our guard," Master Zhao murmured after a while, pondering over his map of Stranglethorn Vale. "There is an Alliance camp only two days from here. They may be scholars, but they are fierce when they feel threatened…"

Shenna, settling next to him, leaned forward to observe the map. "If we go west, we can get past the Naga Island from the north…" she mused aloud. Many masters of the Huojin didn't approve when their apprentices spoke their mind – Master Zhao always valued hers, though. "Unfortunately, that would get us close to Hardwrench Hideaway." She made a face. Hardwrench Hideaway might have been a Horde town, but it was run by Goblins of the Bilgewater Cartel, the same ones who also had their own district in Orgrimmar – the one, that stank most of all parts in Orgrimmar… except the Troll Slums; however, the trolls were hardly to blame for that…

Master Zhao, who knew what thoughts ran through her head, chuckled. "We could make a stop at the Gurubashi Arena instead," he suggested. "Not to participate at the tournament, that would be very unfair of us. But I have heard that there are contestants of all races. I believe, it would be a most educational experience, don't you think?

Just to imagine, all these various personalities, gathering in one place… Ah, this arena must truly be astonishing…"

"Well, we don't know if there are any tournaments at this time of the year, nor if there is anyone," Shenna noted, frowning down at the map. "But it beats Hardwrench," she added. Actually, everything beats Hardwrench; even Booty Bay was cozy in comparison, so Shenna didn't complain.

"From the arena I believe we should make for Crystalvein Mine," Master Zhao said after a moments considering. "It should be safer, considering that second Alliance camp to the north close to the Whirlpool. I do not think that these men would attack two travelers, but I also do not wish to take any chances. Better to avoid a potentially dangerous situation if it can be done so easily."

Shenna swallowed. "I do agree with the avoiding-part, Master, but you do realize that that cave ends in a troll settlement, and they are of the non-friendly faction…"

"True, true," Master Zhao nodded in agreement. "But since there is this whirlpool, it is too dangerous for Gui to swim. And there is that Alliance camp; it is likely, that they could take offence if we get too close. Tensions are running high these days between our factions. I would prefer not to rouse them without good reason."

At this part, she totally disagreed, but Shenna held her tongue. Scratching her left ear, she kept staring at the map, not showing her unease. "So, how do you want to avoid the trolls then?" she asked instead.

Sighting deeply, a frown dug into the pandaren forehead. "I believe, if we stick close to these mountains, we should be save. We need to move quickly, of course. The longer we stay near the ruins the greater the threat of being discovered – and we cannot have that, can we?" He gave her an uncharacteristic rascally wink before rising from his cushion, taking the map with him.

* * *

The Gurubashi Arena was… boring; even the magnificent architecture couldn't change anything about that. Just as Shenna'd feared, the tournament wasn't in season. Next month, the goblin and his troll companion said, looking both curiously at Master Zhao: pandaren hadn't been visiting the jungle often, and both ringmasters seemed to be dying to see a veteran monk perform in a real battle…

Master Zhao just noted his disappointment that there were no other adventurers around, and bit their farewell. Shenna just grumbled under her breath: "If they wanna see you fight, they just need to follow us…" And when they finally reached the tunnel of Crystalvein Mine, one week after they left Booty Bay, her mood had dropped even further.

"Chin up, young Windkin," Master Zhao laughed. "You should have a little more faith in your old master. And in your own skills."

"I have all the confidence there is in you, Master, but don't ask about mine." Since their encounter with the naga, there hadn't been any real fight again. With each passing day, Shenna started to believe, that her whole performance that day was nothing but simple and stupid luck. The idea, to prove her skills against a whole tribe of trolls (in case of discovering, which was, according to her, out of the question), send shivers down her spine, and those were bad ones…

However, Master Zhao wouldn't be deterred; he even seemed delighted by the very idea to possibly meet with violent cannibals… However, the closer they got, the more she knew, that her master, too, moved with more caution than usual. And when they came ever closer to the mine, she felt her hair stand on end, too…

And when they saw the first statues, her nerves were about to capitulate.

Shuddering, she snuck further, trying to keep as close to Master Zhao as possible; trembling all the while despite the jungle heat. There was the third troll statue, life-sized, its pose crouched as if it wanted to shield itself – the same or similar pose as the other two statues, and there were even more of them all around them… All made of this crystal clear stone or… crystal, or whatever it might be. She was by no means a jeweler, but she was sure that this was no artist's work. The closer she examined the statues faces –

"Ah, yes, Windkin," Master Zhao said deliberately, his voice uncharacteristically low. "You are right; these are no ordinary statues… This is magic, _evil_ magic."

When she whispered, her voice was high-pitched. "Do you believe that…?"

"That these have once been real people?" The pandaren took a deep shaking breath. "Oh yes…"

"Aaand… you are still adamant that you want to go through the cave?" she asked hopefully.

"Ah, yes, of course," answered Master Zhao calmly. "We both know what magic is behind this" – she blinked, surprised – "and we have tools to arm ourselves." Climbing off Gui's back, Master Zhao wordlessly rummaged through their packs, until he produced a small mirror, fitting snugly in his large paw.

Also sliding off from the turtle's shell, Shenna looked at her mentor, bewildered. Then she remembered a journal, she once read, "The various Beasts of Stranglethorn Vale and how to encounter and/or avoid them": this was a Basilisk! She remembered now: there were numerous areas where they lived, some at the northern coast and others… in Crystalvein Mine. Oh, bummer…

Her hand trembled fiercely, when she took the little mirror. "We need to move cautiously," Master Zhao said. "The basilisks in this cave can do tremendous damage to us if they manage to catch our eyes directly. That is why we will need these mirrors. With their help, we can easily look past the corners of the cave and find a save passage to the other side. I was able to purchase a detailed map from this cave in Booty Bay from a very friendly draenei. Now we can wound our way through this maze and safely out." Even though his voice sounded strained, Master Zhao looked pleased. Shenna just groaned. How could some hand mirrors save them from these monsters that turned living flesh and bone into… stone?

The sun stood high at the sky, when master and apprentice made their way into the cave, armed with hand mirrors. Master Zhao made the front, than Gui with their packs, and Shenna at their rear again.

Within the cave it was dark, however, that didn't bother her: her races formidable eyesight was a real benefit here. And Master Zhao didn't seem to need any light, or sight for that matter, he seemed to _feel_ his way. The further they treaded into the cave, the more Shenna was surprised, however: no matter how deep they went into this darkness, it was still rather well lit: the numerous crystals that lined along the walls, mirrored and duplicated the light coming from the cave's entrance!

In any other situation, she would have loved to simply look at this natural wonder, but Shenna kept her eyes locked on her little mirror, tilting it rapidly in every direction. Neither she nor Master Zhao made any noise while they tiptoed close to the walls, only Gui made clearly audible steps on the floor. She knew that the basilisks had bad ears, but they made up for that with very sensible feet, that felt vibrations over the ground, and of course they had pretty good eyesight.

By now they must've noticed us…

The roar, which tore through the cave, made her toppling backwards, falling onto her bottom. Out of nowhere a group of trolls, and living ones, burst into the tunnel where they just shuffled through – and were just as surprised to see them as they were. Yet, these Skullsplitter warriors didn't ask questions. They'd come here to hunt basilisks, and found a bear-man and a skinny elf instead!

* * *

If Shenna thought, the fight against the naga had been fierce, the trolls taught her otherwise – and the same time renewed those horrors she'd lived through at one bright, searing day in Orgrimmar…

No time for thinking. She didn't notice Gui's roar or Master Zhao's warning cry; she only saw those warriors, darting for her, their red eyes rolling in madness. She hadn't realized that she'd stood up from the ground, holding her staff defensively, while she countered the first strike.

Master Zhao, now standing in the middle of the tunnel, his own staff still strapped over his back, engaged with the trolls in the first line. His paws moving so fast, they were barely visible; he didn't move from the spot, where he stood, not allowing more than one troll get past him to face his apprentice.

Not long and the caves of Crystalvein Mine were echoing with the sound of metal scrapping over solid rock, roars of their enemies, and Master Zhao's and Shenna's cries. Breaking bones, too, though that was a soft sound that made her stomach coil in repulsion, yet she couldn't effort the luxury to step down in her efforts here.

There was barely any space left for her to operate. She only had her speed, her agility… unfortunately, the trolls benefited from those, too, very much to her growing dismay. She could only dodge their attacks, and hope to land one or another critical hit – however, those were few, and the longer the battle prolonged, the more trolls managed to come for her –

From the other side of the cave!

It was a maze, with more than one way through. The Skullsplitter trolls seemed to know this labyrinth well; they now tackled both pandaren and elf, driving them close to each other till they stood with their backs almost touching…

Shenna didn't feel any pain, but at one point she realized that her balance was somewhat off, that she couldn't lift her right arm. She also didn't have the time or chance to take a look at her limp dangling arm, all covered in blood – her own blood, as her strength slowly sapped out of her with it. Looking at her enemies, they now stared at her with hunger rather than bloodlust; she thought she was about to feint, but that was also the moment when the otherwise kind and funny pandaren ignited into a flesh born war machine.

Sinking down against the wall, she didn't trust her eyes anymore, when a deadly whirlwind of mist and chi-blasts filled the cave around her. Blinded by the fire, her master spit at his foes, she was too weak to even look away. Her eyes locked at the scene unfolding itself right before her, she simply couldn't believe it… And all the while, blood was dripping down her arm.

At some point, she must have lost her consciousness somewhere during the fight, because she felt that she was lifted and carried by some swift someone… and she felt silk against her cheek – _Master Zhao_!

Then, everything went black.

* * *

Shenna woke with a start. Trying to leap onto her feet, everything in her head spiraled, making her sink back onto the ground…

"Steady, young one, calm down. We are save now." Master Zhao was speaking. Oh, thank the heavens, he was here, and he was alive!

"What happened?" she croaked. Thankfully, she took a few sips from a bottle, some tea.

A moment's silence, then: "Be at peace, Windkin. Rest, while you can. You have suffered from a mortal wound during that battle, and your blood loss was almost critical." She could see, without opening her eyes that he was smiling fondly, and proud, down at her. "But, little Windkin, brave, brave Windkin, you have some strength in you. You kept on fighting death itself, and you succeeded."

She wanted to disagree; she didn't feel like someone who just won a battle. "What happened to the trolls?" she asked finally, trying again to open her eyes. Night had fallen, the sounds of wildlife around them were already soothed and she felt her heart calmed down.

"I was finally able to break through the lines," Master Zhao said. He, too, seemed more relaxed than just moments before; pulling out his pipe, he filled and lit it before continuing. "Also our friend, Gui, had his part in that. He tackled some of them, making sure to protect our left flank, since I had to carry you.

"It seems we accidently ran into a hunting party of Skullsplitter trolls, who were after the basilisks, probably some for ritual. Whatever their reasons, the moment she saw us, they obviously thought us to be worthwhile victims." He smiled down at her. "But we taught them otherwise.

"After our escape, I brought us here. I am just afraid that this location isn't well chosen: not far from here there is the very Alliance camp, we wanted to avoid. However, with your serious wounds, I could not afford to wait any longer. This spot is rather secure, though. As soon as you feel better, we will continue during the night and sneak past the ford. With a little luck, we should be able to avoid them. From there we will go for Grom'gol were we get you a proper healer."

Straightening up, she huffed in strain. "Don't bother, Master," Shenna said through clenched teeth. "I can manage a little discomfort. We should go right now…"

Shaking his head, the pandaren pushed her gently back onto her bedroll. "No, Windkin," he said. "We will rest during another day, and then we will decide what to do. Now, I must insist that you rest."

Poor Master Zhao. Was it her weakness imbued imagination or did he sound tired and strained? He wasn't a young pandaren any more, after all…

With these troubled thoughts, she dropped back into her dreams.

* * *

When she awoke again, it was past noon already. Master Zhao and Gui were not far from where she laid. It was now that she heard the thundering water below. She swallowed: When she was awake during last night, she hadn't realized just how close they camped to the Whirlpool that divided Stranglethorn Vale in two. Except the tunnel, they had taken, the only way to get from one half to the other, was via the ocean. And due to the Whirlpool, the currents were strong and unpredictable. Usually, people took the flight path overhead or a ship with a proper pilot on board.

"Are you alright, Master?" she asked hesitantly. Master Zhao, sitting not far away, sat sunken and seemed tired. Just now did she realize, how grey he fur was and how wrinkled his face under that fur. – Straightening up, which turned out to be more difficult than usually since her arm was in a sling, she came over and sat down next to him. "You look tired…"

He just smiled his tranquil smile, yet couldn't wipe off the streak of weariness. "It it nothing beyond the usual, young one," he said. "But in face of latest events, I think we make a little detour before we go to Grom'gol."

One of her elongated brows shot up. "A detour?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Traditionally, I would do this important ceremony in the Woods of Staves on the Wandering Isle. But, alas, Shen-zin Su is nobody knows where, so this jungle has to serve for our intentions."

"And… what intentions might that be?" she asked cautiously. No answer; Master Zhao just continued with his pipe, looking down the ledge at the whirling thundering waters.

Shenna sat pondering in silence, too. _Wood of Staves_. When did she hear this term before? In her lessons, yes, but what did it mean? Peering over her shoulder at Gui, she sighted in disappointment: even though the dragon turtle carried a couple of books with it, none of them were about the Wandering Isle or pandaren rituals. The only thing she remembered, however darkly, this ceremony was between a master and his most favored student.

She felt a little proud upon remembering that, but there was an uneasy feeling about it. What else was there? It had to do with the development of a student… Did that mean that she was going to be promoted or something? – Looking attentively at her master, he still seemed tired where he sat, not in the least celebratory… What had happened in that blasted cave to leave him vulnerable like this?

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. At some point Shenna crawled near the Alliance camp, curiously looking for any sign that they might have noticed their temporary Horde neighbors. But nothing down within the camp indicated anything of the likes, so Shenna resumed watching them. Mostly humans and dwarves lived there, doing everyday business, and that draenei lady could be a shaman according to her attire… And what, in the name of the Ancestors, did that _troll_ down there?

Pondering that question, it was dawning and she snug back to Master Zhao, who hadn't moved from his spot at the cliff. Silently, she reloaded Gui with after a short meal of bread and fruit, before Master Zhao joined her.

"We will stick close to the mountains," he said low voiced. "Hold on to Gui. You are in no fighting shape with your arm…" Embarrassed, she looked away, feeling ashamed for her injury.

Master Zhao gently patted her back. "Do not worry, Windkin, Gui can move much faster than he may look," he said with a encouraging wink. "Just hold on fast and don't worry. We will be fine." And despite his own tarnished condition, Shenna couldn't help it: his words struck true, and she felt rested and resolute again when she climbed on Gui's back. If he could manage this strength, than she could at least try to look less miserable!

And indeed, as much as their adventure through the caves had ended in a little (to her, big) disaster, this one went well. Sticking close to the eastern mountains, they both rode past the ford. It seemed the jungle's spirit was in favor to them: mist rose from around them, covering their approach as they snug further. In the ford, torches were lit and night guard's patrolled the camp, yet none of them came close to Shenna and her master and the mist, though not very dense, seemed to befuddle the human and dwarven guards.

All the better for us, she mused, relieved when they left Ford Livingston behind, and a trace of security spread through her tenseness when the thick jungle closed in around them. They rode a while longer, trying to keep as much space between them and the Alliance outpost.

The rest of the night they spend on Gui's back, seemingly without aim or reason. Shenna, finally allowing herself to rest in a small nest she'd made herself, was again thinking about this ceremony, they would perform soon. Twisting and turning the term, _Wood of Staves_, in her head, the ominous feeling lingered with her every thought, not allowing her to relax. Something important was about to happen – and her gut told her, it wasn't good. How was she supposed to relax with that?

* * *

The later it got and the further the Alliance fort disappeared behind them, Shenna felt her head becoming heavier until she dozed off uneasily. Her arm started to throb; just her luck, what if that blade was poisoned?

She was tired; however, when Master Zhao started to speak, she was fully alert.

"Join me, my pupil. Accompany this old pandaren to the close. We have one final journey to take together before this part of your training is complete.

"There is no Elders' Path or Wood of Staves in this jungle, but the spirits are strong and welcoming. In its entire, this is a holy place on its own – and suitable for our purpose.

"Of the many ways to prove your worth, you have already excelled expectations during our journey. Not only in proving your battle prowess, also other abilities and your determination were of importance here.

"Once my own master took me on this path, requiring nothing else than prove that I would protect our people on the Wandering Isle. I do know, both our people are very different; however, I have seen your heart, young Windkin: you are determined to protect those in need, especially since you know how it is to be on your own. And I know, you can keep them safe and comfort them."

The jungle surrounding them hadn't changed; it was a green, almost otherworldly vicinity. Yet, Shenna had no eye for the diverse plant live; all her attention was focused on the aged pandaren in frond on the dragon turtle.

"You've become strong indeed, child," Master Zhao said after a moment's silence. "This is good. You will need that strength soon. Aah, here we are. Come, walk with me."

As much as she looked around, Shenna couldn't see any difference in the setting around them. Green upon green in thousands of different shades; even the tree trunks were green, some brownish green and covered by lianas. But she couldn't identify any specialty that separated this spot from any other they'd passed…

"When I left the Wandering Isle, I knew that it wouldn't take long until I would walk this path. I did not expect it to come already, but this kind of thing cannot be deterred, even if we sometimes with it to be otherwise." Master Zhao hadn't turned around, not even to check if she'd follow him. She did, of course, climbing limply off the dragon turtle and hurrying after her mentor, trying not to miss any single of his low spoken words. "However, already back then did I walk the Elder's Path, asking permission to enter the sacred wood. I took the charms, required for this ritual and bit my farewells to those who had come there before me.

"My greatest fear, however, was that I would not find somebody in time, worthy and willing to perform the ceremony with me. You have made me very proud, Windkin." He didn't turn around to face her, for which she was relieved; she didn't want her master to see the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "I do not have the strength of body or mind that I once had. I'm glad there are noble souls like you to fight on for our people. You've come far, my Student. The journey we started together, shall soon be yours to undertake without me.

"Here, this is the spot." With a strained groan, Master Zhao dropped onto the ground where he stood, sitting upright with his short legs crossed. "Stay for a few moments and listen to an old pandaren's words. Let my knowledge serve as a foundation for yours, that you might be greater than I ever was." Awkwardly, Shenna sat down opposite to her master, watching him intently as he planted his staff deep into the ground between them. Just now did she notice several icons hanging down from it…

"For 3,000 years, we have passed the knowledge of our people down. Elder to youth. Master to student. Every elder reaches the day when he must pass on and plant his stave with the staves of his ancestors. Today is the day when my staff joins this foreign earth, becoming one with the jungle." Tears were cascading now. _Wood of Staves_, now she remembered…

"Windkin…" He savored the word. "You have always been with the winds. I remember the day of your initiation into our school. You were frightened and uncertain. Yet, when you accepted the name, I have chosen for you, I couldn't be more proud. You've come far, my young student. I am confident that you will see the world as the seeker of truth that you are. I am proud to have been a part of this journey." Wordless, he sank back onto his back, his eyes closing.

Shenna cried out in shock, jumping on her feet and was by her master side, her eyes now swimming in tears.

"I know, Windkin…" Master Zhao whispered. "I know. Such is the way of things."

* * *

The jungle of Stranglethorn was uncaring to mortal grief. Shenna's body shook with tremors while she cried in silence, her wet face buried into her masters still warm chest. Her mind blank with sorrow while she crouched there onto the forest ground, not bothering anything, neither the chirping and screaming birds, the soft wind, that came from the ocean and ruffled through the many layers of foliage above. There were beasts, too, vicious ones. They wouldn't hurt her…

However, the vastness of her thoughts, was suddenly interrupted.

"Oua leada don' lik' it if his prey escap's." Her eyes sprang open: the evil voice came from right beside her ear. "An' he would real luv ta see ya."

Whirling around, she saw some purplish skin, covered by moss like fur, before something hard collided with her head.


	6. Horrors of Stranglethorn

**Horrors of Stranglethorn**

She wasn't out cold, but that didn't help to improve her chances. After they failed to completely knock her out, they did manage to seize her. No matter how much she screamed and struggled, in the end her arms were cruelly folded and bound in her back as were her legs and ankles. And there wasn't a single moment for repose as her now unnerved captors didn't waste another moment to put her in her place: kicking and punching, all she could do was roll herself into a ball, hoping to be spared any mortal injuries…

After what seemed to her like an eternity, the beating stopped and she was hauled onto the shoulders of one of the warriors. However, she didn't keep her low demeanor for long and soon she started struggling anew, feeling some gratification whenever she heard a pained growl or curse from her captors. It also didn't take long for them either, though: dropping her, she fell several feet till she hit the ground, where she was beaten into submission again. Finally, one warrior who currently balanced her on his shoulders, cursed aloud before pulling her off by her hair, slamming her head against the next tree. She felt the tickle of blood flowing over her forehead and between her eyes, then with the next slam against the tree, everything went black.

She woke again, when she was dropped unceremoniously yet again. Groaning in pain, she opened her eyes; it was already dawning. Slowly focusing, she swallowed: she was in some troll ruin, a village or city. Several wood and straw made huts were build around and under and on top of ancient ruins. Obviously, the whole village had gathered to observe the latest victim – for whatever sinister purpose she would serve.

She felt her stomach churn under the trolls vicious glares. What would they do to her? Eat her? Trolls were cannibals who ate their victims, that much she knew. They could also torture her, and raping would be part of the agenda, too…

The sound of heavy packs being dropped and thrown onto the ground, got her attention. Looking up, she gasped in shock: those were their own packs, the ones that had been attached to Gui… Gui! Oh, merciful Ancestors, please let him –

More things were dropped next to her – but one special something caught her attention, and everything else was forgotten: it was a heavy, bloody rock. But it wasn't a rock… Clearly, she could see the toes and nails… the dusty teal colored skin with its deep crinkles…

This time, she shook because of the terror that had befallen her. How did these savages manage to kill the brave dragon turtle? How did they _dare_ to befoul the last resting place of… of…

_No!_ No tears. Pull yourself together, girl, this is no time to be weeny! …

Somebody was approaching her prone form, sneering something in a rough, guttural voice. Brace yourself, girl… A hard kick in her side (she pressed her lips tight to keep quiet) rolled her onto her back, where she was forced to look up at the troll standing over her. He was tall, like all of them, and wiry, too. He wore a leather kilt decorated with bones, claws and pearls, a wooden mask concealing his features from her, except his long curved tusks.

A shaman, she thought, meeting his eyes defiantly – at least she hoped she did. She was still panting from pain and the ropes were cutting into her skin; it was almost a miracle that none of her bones was broken… yet.

"Good ta see, ya still alive," the troll said; his voice was ragged and betrayed his old age, despite his lean, muscled body. "No' many lil' elfies get 'ere. Ana'thek be glad." A snarl accentuated his words and didn't leave much to imagination of what this situation meant for her…

Setting her jaw, she kept staring at those holes in his mask where his eyes were. "What do I care?" she returned, relieved that her voice sounded more determined than she felt herself.

A hart kick into her side made her regret her stubbornness. Cringing into a ball, she groaned, almost overhearing the cruel bemused chuckles from around her. "A fi'ry one," the shaman sneered. "Don'cha worrey; fir' can be q'enched…"

Another troll spoke, his voice deep and primal, demanding attention and obedience. She shuddered involuntarily and turned her head upwards to face – She swallowed. In Orgrimmar, she'd seen some really big, _big_ trolls, but this one…

A whimper stole itself from her lips. This was a warrior, no doubt. Leather and plate was armoring his bluish frame, a crest of teal blue hear and a sort of circlet sat on top of it, decorated with colored feathers. Their leader! Their Head Shaman and their Chief. Oh… _bummer_!

She knew, her whole body was already covered with bruises, dirt and blood; she felt stiff and sore everywhere and she felt her resolve crumple before her eyes. But what was worse, was that little thought, that repeated itself again and again: I'm alone. I'm alone; no Master Zhao anymore, who would shield me from harm, not any friend in sight. Nobody even knew where she was…

The big troll leader, who stared down at her, made her wish the ground would swallow her. His eyes trailed up and down her body, lingering at her breasts and hips, running over her thighs. Tensing, she had the impression to feel his hands over her. Effortlessly tugging at her bonds, she knew that her courage was close to none existent anymore. This couldn't be true! And yet it was…

A grin spread over the leader's features. His usual viciousness was replaced by something sinister and lecherous, and it served to frighten her even more. She was expecting pain and torture… both not totally unknown to her, but this promised a whole new level of agony.

Facing them, the chief roared something to the crowd. Whatever he just said, it made the audience cheer; the shaman, too, nodded behind his mask, and Shenna somehow knew he was grinning behind it. The next moment, she was seized by two guards, who dragged her with them. Maybe it was their roughness, their arrogance that they thought, she was subdued already, but in a desperate attempt, she renewed her struggles again as she was hauled off. She hung into them, her legs lashing up, trying to kick whoever she could strike. But weariness kept her efforts fruitless and only served in bemusing the trolls.

She was pulled up some stairs made of palm trunks; high above the ground, build on the ruins and the palms and trees, this hut was the largest and most imposing of all, the chief's house. Pulled into it, she was carelessly thrown onto the floor. Panting against the pain, she tried to keep her breath deep and even. She knew, the overwhelming odds were against her, but she refused to give up. She was still too young, and despite her troubled years on the streets, she was still inexperienced when it came to torture and she had no real idea what to expect… Right now, she wanted to live, no matter the costs –

She heard the unsheathing of a blade. Whirling around, the chief stood over her, the only one with her in the hut, in his large hand a surprisingly small knife. His expression made up for the lack of blade size, and she hurriedly scrambled away. Of course, without result. She was pulled up to balance shakily on her tightly bound legs, when he stuck his tongue out. Without warming, the wet organ licked over her face. Then she remembered: she had been slammed at least two times against a tree and had a laceration on her forehead. Her insides started to coil against the very idea: he was going for her blood.

In her animosity, she first didn't notice it, when her clothes where cut and torn. When the cool air from inside the hut flicked over her bare nipples, she couldn't hold it: she screamed. There was no pain, but her own incapacity to even influence the coming trail of events was what was truly horrific to her. – Twisting under the brute, she felt his knife cut into her skin more than once, sometimes drawing blood, but it only spurred her on to even more trying.

Laying bare before him, much faster as she'd hoped, the chief stared down at the elf while leisurely shedding the upper layers of his armor. Turning her onto her stomach, she felt the bonds around her legs being cut. Her relieve was short lived, and she quickly wished for the bonds to return when felt him grope her shapy ass; his fingers dug and nails clawed, pulling her cheeks apart, opening her snatch to his ravenous glare.

"No!" she clenched through locked teeth, as she kept on struggling, only making him chuckle as he comfortably settled between her spread legs. The ropes around her chest were so tight, she felt as if she was about to faint. When the groping resumed, she had one last flash of thought: twisting sidewards, she drew her foot up, took quick aim and landed it in the trolls prominent chin.

Not the best sidekick she ever performed; Master Zhao would shake his head in remark, but in the current situation enough. The lust crazed troll howled more in surprise than pain, while she didn't lose another moment to scramble on her feet. She didn't think, she had no plan, but anywhere was better than –

A tug in her hair and she felt her neck protest in earnest. The roar in her back, was not as frightening as the ideas of what he would do, if she didn't get her brown behind out of here! – Whirling around, she knew her next kick would fail – she had just wasted her chance to escape this monster… and by the look at his rage twisting face with his bloody nose, she knew, it had been her only chance.

With an angry snarl, his fist landed in her face and she saw stars exploding in her mind. It was almost as if it was the body of somebody else, when she was wrestled back onto the ground. Her dizzy mind only barely registered the pain in her sore beaten body, as the troll chief pounded his fists into her belly and chest and just every spot of flesh he could reach. With every punch he uttered something in his native tongue, probably some terrible curse.

When he was finished, the only thing she registered what the omnipresent pain and that she, because of that, was conscious – very much to her dismay. She tried to lay still since the slightest movement made her moan under the flaring pain.

"Ya be some filthy bitch, bu' unda ev'ry filth is somet'in ta use."

Only on the edge of her unfocused sight did she register that he just pulled off the rest of his clothes. But even in her clouded mind, she was startled, than shocked when she beheld his manhood, as it stood veiny and pulsing like a living thing from the trolls groin. Fear cut through her. She had been raped by other stray kids, sometimes unnerved grunts or ill tempered merchants, but not one of them had a cock of that size. He would split her in half! And by the lock on his face, that was exactly what he intended to.

Grabbing her by her hair, he pulled her up into a sitting position. Shenna gasped due to the tearing pain, and choked: thrusting his hips forward, he buried his cock between her lips and down her throat.

Holding her head securely by tangles of dirty hair, his nails scrapping over her scalp, he pulled her head closer, burying himself even deeper in her throat. She felt tears spring into her eyes, as she gagged helplessly around his hot meat pole. Her jaw hurt from strain and it was as if the corners of her mouth were about to tear…

"Yeah… dis be wat filth be good fo'."

Pulling out, she had not time for respite. Settling with a fierce, hard pace, the troll chief buried his manmeat back into her mouth. Barely able to draw breath, she mindlessly drooled all over his cock and down her chin. Eyelits flattering, her eyes rolling almost back into her head, she met the trolls glare with her own diluting orbs.

She was too far gone, but she still noticed when his movements started to become erratic and his groans and snorts quicker. One last brutal thrust, a satisfied groan, and the troll's manhood exploded in her mouth. Ropes of cum shot down her throat, so much it poured out of her nose, spilled out from between his shaft and her trapped lips; a tangy, salty taste, the smell stinging her senses and rousing her from the pain imbued haze.

Groaning, the troll thrust into her mouth one last time before pulling himself free, pushing his new present onto the ground where she collapsed, coughing and panting, his jizz dripping out of her lax jaw.

"Don' cha worey, A'm no' thru wit 'cha… Ya betta enjo' dis; dat ol' witch docta won' kill ya fast…"

He was breathing hard, but his eyes were still running leery over her bare exhausted form as if pondering which orifice to use and spoil next…

"Ya 'ave nice tits, bitch, bu' A tink ya ass be betta siut'd fo' dis…"

His still hard cock was glistening by her spit and his own release. The elven novice, still paradoxically fighting the haze in her brain, shivered uncontrollably. She knew, her agony was only at the very beginning and by the look at the troll this was going to be a very long night. And what did he mean about that witch doctor? Was this just some game for him before they would butcher her? –

Stomping his foot into her side, she groaned again and was rolled onto her stomach. She snapped back partially, when she felt him settle on her spread thighs. When she heard his approving hum when he again groped her round, soft ass, the seed of panic, that had laid dormant, awoke to new horrors, making her squeal and wince in terror…

Terror, that skyrocketed when she felt his slippery cockhead press against her sphincter. Fully aware again, she cried out, writhing against her bonds – all in vain, of course. Hearing him chuckle, feeling his cruel hands steadying her hips, was enough to make her squirm. Her mind was back, as was her spirit, but her chances were worse than ever!

He was pressing in… further… She knew, her resistance made everything worse, but she was certain, not trying would be so much the worse! The excruciating pain in her ass, that radiated through her body, blinding her… Her screams, high and pitched, made her deaf. The only things, she were aware of, were agony and his needy pants, laced with anticipation… and –

A cry of surprise, and suddenly the pain in her bottom eased. Something heavy fell to ground, along with an angry snarl, a curse – than a gurgle… and silence.

Still laying on her belly, breathing hard, she heard something else, something terrible. Twisting against the pain of her still bound torso, she saw a tall shadow, and it wasn't the troll! With a dagger cutting and breaking through bone and sinew, it severed the dead troll chief's head from his shoulders. It was the sound of tearing flesh and bone, that was the most horrible sound of all…

Mute, her eyes followed the shadow's movement, saw the troll's head disappear in a jute sac. And when cold eyes, glowing out from under the hood, turned and fell onto her, she couldn't suppress a tiny whimper. The omnipresent pain was forgotten in view of this new unknown threat –

A cry of alarm: in the entrance to the chiefs hut stood a towering guard. Seeing the assassin, the bloody bag in his hand and the unquestionable beheaded body to his feet, the guard let out a roar in rage – answered and reverberating from all around the camp. Storming into the hut, two vicious axes drawn, the troll went straight for the dark shadow – and was made quick business of.

Another thud as another dead body collapsed on the bamboo floor. – she was paralyzed. Staring at the body of her almost-rapist and the dead guard… was this really happening before her eyes? Even struggling, she had been sure, that everything that happened here was inevitable and that nothing in this realm could stop it, that she was beyond saving; all on her own, facing a dreadful dead at the hands of this cruel chief, who liked to toy with his victims and who liked to break said toys…

And now… dead. The brute was dead. And she was still in danger.

The assassin, turned on his heels, just now did she notice the cut in one of the curtains, that sealed the hut from the day- and moonlight. Is was that tear, through which the assassin had entered…

He was swift – but so was she: the moment he reached the torn curtain, she cried: "Don't leave me here!" He was already slipping through – the angry voices of even angrier trolls came closer. "Wait! Kill me, but don't leave me here – _please_!"

She thought, he hesitated. The moment, the other guards stormed the hut, the assassin rushed for her, she felt leather gloves lifting her, and suddenly, there was light!

Over the jungle of Stranglethorn a lonely crescent hung on a starlit sky. It was dark night… and yet she could see all those stars shine down. A little smile tug around her lips. She was a blood elf, and blood elves were high elves… and high elves were night elves. She was twenty-one now… but never before did the night sky look so beautiful…

The moment was short lived. Looking back up at the hut in the trees, she yelled. "Axethrower!"

The assassin, one arm around her legs which were draped across his broad chest, whirled around. She just heard a singing sound, than he ran onwards, another dead troll in his wake, this one with a silver throwing knife between his eyes.

A large shadow, blacker than the sky above jumped into their way. She didn't see it properly, until she was unceremoniously thrown over… the back of the biggest cat she'd ever seen! – She whimpered. Now she knew, why the assassin didn't bother about her: he was a night elf, and this was his pitch black nightsaber! She was being rescued by an Alliance member?

Oh, _bummer_!


	7. Blessing in disguise

**Blessing in disguise**

There was pain everywhere. The smooth strides of the nightsaber were torture as she was rocked back and forth, hanging with her head down before the night elf's saddle and the large saber's front armory. Locking her jaw, she stifled every sound of discomfort. Hopefully, the other elf would realize that she was literally just a little fish, not worth much in this war between their factions, and leave her where she could find her way to a Horde camp… Her only hope was that such a camp wasn't far…

Or he could sell her to slavers…? That troll didn't seem to mind her "unelvish" proportions, like her too thick thighs, or broad shoulders (broad in comparison to every other female blood elf she'd seen so far…), so some slavers probably wouldn't mind those flaws either…?

The saber suddenly jumped over some root, shaking the poor blood elf, who groaned in pain. If just her arms were free… she could position herself easier and wouldn't swoon like a ship in a storm. Maybe it was her cry, maybe the night elf finally thought that they'd come far enough, but when he made his mount stop, she would have cried in relieve. Even being dropped on the ground, also accompanied with a moan, didn't bother her anymore. All she wanted was to curl into a tiny ball, and sleep, and cry, and not wake up anymore. She was so tired…

She heard heavy metal things being dropped onto the ground, a deep growl from the saber and some murmuring of her… well, he wasn't exactly her rescuer. Silently, she wished he was, but common sense told her that she could not expect any generosity from an Alliance.

She didn't move, still laying still where she was dropped on a patch of surprisingly soft grass. She didn't see, what was happening around her, but she heard the saber being fed with some heavy chunks of meat. Even in her discomfort, though, she was thankful for the neglect. Laying here, even with those ropes still cutting into her skin, was better than getting too much attention. Attention, she remembered, was always a bad thing… and it was easier to survive, if people simply overlooked you.

However, not for long. The night elf was trained in stealth, so with her back to him and her eyes closed in fatigue, she shrieked in fright when she felt a bare hand on her shoulder, hearing a blade being unsheathed. He's going to kill me!

The sound of stretched rope being cut, filled her ears. The night elf was surprisingly gentle as he cut every single strand and peeled it off from her grime and dirt covered body, carefully unfolding her arms. Clearly, one could see stripes of clean skin crossing over her body. Like the ropes, the torn remains of her clothes and her sandals and sleeves, were carefully peeled from her.

She was rolled onto her belly, her arms laying at her sides. She didn't look at what the male did, she couldn't even be relieved to be finally free. Breathing in jagged rasps, she was hurt everywhere. Just a little forlorn gasp stole itself from her lips, when he started to touch her directly. Stiffening up, she relaxed again, when his touching turned out to be more like scanning. Large purple hands swept over her, searching for broken bones or other serious injuries. Only when he made a quick inspection of her ass, did she whimper in protest.

It was over quickly; he turned her over onto her back, where his eyes and hands resumed their scanning. Just now did she see him clearly, long silver hair in a high tail and deep purple skin. He had a chiseled chin and high cheekbones with silver white whiskers and sweeping, equally silver brows and eyelashes. He wasn't handsome like those male blood elf she'd seen so far, but there was some primal beauty in it, quite pleasing to her eyes… He had taken off his black shirt and vest, only wearing his pants and boots. Some part of her initially wanted to cover herself up, but to what good? He'd probably seen his fill of her before he attacked and killed the troll. – Blushing slightly, she didn't move though, until he was finished.

When he was, he rose from his crouch and walked back to his mount, not saying a word. Following him with her eyes, she blinked in surprise. Despite her aching everything, she scrambled up, not minding her nudeness. Sitting under a tree, the grass still surprisingly soft, just one stride away from where she sat, the sandy beach stretched out before her and beyond it, the endless ocean.

Some ticking noise to her left and the orange flare told her that the night elf had ignited a campfire. She didn't look, though, her eyes were locked at the ocean, at the waters. She didn't mind that that was salt water, that it would sting in her countless bruises and cuts… Slowly, shakily, she got back onto her feet, her eyes not leaving the alluring waters. Holding onto the tree, she finally tumbled forward, the waters rushing in her ears.

After all the heat and sweat, the cool water was like a lover, she'd never had. Wading into it, she feel it tugging at her calves. Aah, the sting! Hissing, she resumed her determined journey into the black liquid. Salt water was after all good medicine against open wounds. Infections were washed out and accelerated the healing process… If it just wouldn't sting and burn like some glowing poking stick pressed into her skin.

Being used to the dust dry heat of Durotar, and now the sweltering moist heat of Stranglethorn, the cold ocean water was almost numbing her senses. But she kept on walking further, until the water reached her breasts. She could still feel the dried blood on her face, her head was swooning, a constant thrumming behind her eyes… like a war drummer on his drums… like a blacksmith hammering on his anvil… Need – to wash – crap off… She felt her knees buckle under the waves, felt the surface close over her head.

Eyes shut, her wounds stung when the salty water touched them – but the pain only lingered for so long… Then she was huddled and carried by the gentle waves. Forth and back, like a leaf in the wind. It tugged lightly at her mane, as it waved around her like a cloud. She was drifting away… away from what? If I get pulled into the ocean and die… well, that wouldn't be too bad…

* * *

The water suddenly rushed fiercely. Something hard and strong clamped around her arms and shoulders, pulling her out her dream, out of her paradise.

Lungs screaming for air, she fell onto the ground. Coughing, her ribcage was pressed rhythmically. Salt water spilled from her mouth as she desperately tried to breathe. It slowly dawned to her, she had walked into the water – and fell asleep! The pressing against her chest stopped, her ribs felt sore – but I'm alive!

"What the _bloody hell_ were you thinking?" Blinking, she looked into the night elf's furious face. "If you wanted to get yourself killed, I could have left you were you were! Do you have even a shred of a brain up there?"

Coughing, she stammered. "I just… wanted to… the dirt… and blood, I wanted to wash it off…" She sniffed; he looked so angry… "The stench…"

He scoffed. "Brilliant, and drowning seemed to be just the idea to achieve that, no?"

She shook her head, frowning when the pain behind her eyes started to ache again. "I don't… I don't want to drown… to die… really…" That was the truth, she realized. Even with the terror she'd felt while with the trolls, and even now while with an enemy, she didn't want to die! Her heart was still beating hart against her ribs, as if it wanted to remind her, that it was still there and going, regardless of what she might think in that tired mess of a brain… "I am sorry… for the trouble," she finally whispered, looking at the glaring male, who towered over her.

Frowning, the night elf's silver glowing eyes closed to slits, as if he was considering dumping her back into the waters. Then he straightened up; pulling her along with him, he let her to his resting mount, who had just finished it meal, purring in delight while licking it's bloody snout.

"I guess, you could really need a bath," the night elf said. "Let me give an advice: next time, tell people that you want to clean up some – otherwise they'll let you drown like a blind kitten!"

She swallowed. Standing a little shakily, she watched him rummaging through a saddleback. When he put off his boots, she felt some slight unease, and when he peeled of his pants, revealing taught purple skin rippling of hard muscle, she felt her fear rising again.

A scarf or something similar in his large hand, he grabbed her by her arm again, dragging her back to the waters. She was too perplexed to cause any resistance other than occasionally digging her heels into the sand, but the much taller night elf simply pulled her along behind him. In the darkness, his white mane was shining just like his eyes.

Again, she felt water washing around her toes and legs, while the night elf let her further.

"I can take care of things from here," she called, trying to free her arm from his iron grip.

"And let you drown yourself again?" he snarled. "I don't think so. I didn't went through all the trouble so your corpse can wash up the beach with the next flood…" Squealing, she was pulled into his arms. As he was rubbing the cloth, she saw foam forming on it. As much as she protested, her stress imbued weakness made her easy prey, while the night elf effortlessly stroked her body, rubbing off dirt and grime. Those numerous cuts stung again under his force but it wasn't as bad as before.

One arm encircling her waist, he also took care of himself, while she kept trying to wrestle free, all the while feeling the warmth that radiated from him even through the water.

"Hold still, Kitten," he ordered curtly. Gasping, her head was pulled back by his hands – it was only now that she realized that she had no footing anymore. Her hands clamped around his thick upper arms.

Chests against each other, her nipples brushing casually against him, the night elf rubbed her tangled dirty mane. Growling in irritation, he rubbed her hair and scalp, not managing to get through that layer of grime – until he did manage it. Making a sound a triumph, he rinsed her hair only to lather it with foam again and so on a few more times.

Windkin didn't pay attention anymore. Those strong strokes on her head, the warmth in front and the cool waves in her back, and the simply heavenly feeling of being clean again… Yes, he was a night elf of the Alliance, and yes, she was still far from out of danger, but this moment while floating weightlessly in his arms, she didn't care anymore. – She was too far away again, she didn't notice the night elf arch his brow in amusement when she started to purr with pleasure. Only along this pleasure did she feel one hand dropping lower to her neck, stroking her behind her ears…

Unprepared, she was startled when a loud groan reverberated from her relaxed throat. Fully awake, again she heard him chuckle. "So, Kitten has a sensible neck, yes?"

She didn't know what was worse: the fact she was suddenly aware of how close he was, or that she secretly wished him to be much, much closer. – Gasping, she jumped out of his arms – and sank into the water like a stone. Threshing, she emerged again only to slip back into the waves.

When she got pulled up by two strong hands, she stared coughing into disbelieving silver eyes. "I should have known, right? Kittens can't swim."

Still spitting salt water, she resumed that it was good to keep herself as close to this man as possible. Holding tightly with both arms around his neck, determined to not let go until she saw dry soil under them, she heard him sighting. One arm under her bottom, he made his way back to his waiting saber and the still merrily burning fire.

She was reluctant to let go of him, when he finally put her back on the ground, which turned out to be some green sheet. Her knees quickly buckled under her, when he pressed just a little down onto her shoulders. Biting her lip, she felt the bruises flare up again. Now in the light cast on her, she saw for the first time the glorious myriad of colors covering her – glorious in all the wrong ways. Where the ropes had secured her, stripes of red and purple crossed over her arms and chest, over her knees and ankles. Countless punctual bruises market the spots were the trolls had beaten her, and from the sting on her cheek she felt sure, that her face hadn't fared much better. Well, nothing's broken, and I still have all my teeth… Somehow she was even glad that she had swallowed some salt water; it had thoroughly washed down the remains of troll cum…

"Here." A blanket was thrown over her. Pulling it down, she blinked, recognizing a waterskin dangling before her eyes. "Drink up, the salt water has likely dried you out." How right he was. Pouring down the water, and delicious water it was, she realized just now how thirsty she was.

Dropping the empty waterskin, she sighted happily. If being dependent from an Alliance turned out like this, than that wasn't such a bad thing. – Turning back at the night elf, she saw that he was wearing his pants again, something she noted with a smidge of relieve. All the more she became aware of her own nudeness, something she became starkly aware of now…

Passing her some bread with dried meat, the night elf settled behind her. "Eat," he just ordered before she felt something scrapping over her head. A comb, trying in vain to entangle the wet mess that was her hair. Sighting exaggeratedly, the night elf spoke again: "Well, since this is going to take longer than I thought, how did you end up in Zul'Mamwe?"

Looking over her shoulder, she threw him a funny glance. "Is that the name of that village?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, trying to comb through the ends. "One of many ruins in this region, and occupied by the Skullsplitter tribe. Back to you. There were no other prisoners in the camp; you were alone. Lost your caravan?"

She didn't know what was worse: the memory of what had happened to her by those trolls, or… the memory of loss. Loss, she resumed: having lost the only person who'd ever cared for her was worse than any physical injury that could be inflicted to her. She would gladly welcome any kind of torture and eternal agony if that would bring back her Master Zhao…

"I wasn't… part of a caravan," she started, staring down at the crumb in her hand. The tale flowed from her like a fast river, not to be halted or tumbled by any rock or other obstacle. From how she met Master Zhao, to how they left Orgrimmar; over the Barrens, the Crossroads and Ratchet; over the ocean and past the Maelstrom to Booty Bay. She spoke of naga and those two arena guys, of creepy caves and angry trolls… of their escape and –

Her voice broke. That lump in her throat couldn't be quenched or swallowed, so she kept on rasping until the part of her almost rape and, eventually, her rescue.

It was silent for a while, in which the light tugging at her hair continued.

"Quite the story," the night elf behind her finally said. His next question startled her: "How old were you, when you got to the orphanage?"

"Nine. Why?"

"… Right after your people joined the Horde then…" he whispered in thought.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. – Finished." Tugging one last time, an ember braid was draped over her shoulder down between her breasts, almost reaching to her folded hands.

Blinking, she looked at the long braid in awe. Heh, who'd known that her hair had grown so long? And it looked nice. Still wet, it was almost black, but with a golden und red glow on it. Having reviewed her tale, however, made it obvious that it was long from finished. She was sitting here, it was peaceful, but that was only some illusory safety. "So how does the story continues?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"Let me think…" he chuckled, and felt his hands running over her thighs, up to her flat stomach. "I'm a guy, with a pretty girl in my lap." Leaning forward, his chest touching her back, he whispered into her ear: "How do _you_ think this'll end?" His hands trailed in different directions now, one resting over her belly, ever so slightly pulling her closer, while the other trailed further up. Ghosting over her breast, his fingers sliding over the tightening nub, it went further up, lightly closing around her slim neck.

She heard what he said, and she felt what he was doing, but she couldn't bring herself to react. The very rational part of her said, that she could never best him physically, that he could outmatch her easily with his eyes closed. Another voice said, that he, kind off, had the right to do with her as he pleased; after all, he had saved her from the trolls and the fate they had in store for her… If it was worse than this, she didn't know and surely thought it…

Rape wasn't new to her, being touched and fondled either. What was new, however, was this tinge of… what? A new voice whispered to her: I _want_ him to go on.

His hand around her neck, tilted her head that it rested against his shoulder. "Well?" he whispered, demanding an answer, his other hand traveling deeper. "How will this end?" His lips closed around her sensible skin, teeth followed, nipping and pulling, up to where her ear was. The same time, his second hand had found the little treasure, hidden between her shivering thighs…

Gasping, she almost jumped in his embrace. Again this foreign groan, that somehow was her own voice. Assaulted at two fronts, she was starting to burn, from the inside. Arching her spine, she was pressed against him, trapped between his merciless hands and mouth.

Yes, being touched by a male wasn't new to her – but _this_ was!

"I… I do not want… this to end," she finally gasped. This realization scared her. Giving herself up so freely to someone who was turning out to be more like a wolf in sheep's clothing? But he hadn't hurt her. This was a malicious tease, rational thinking couldn't understand it, but her body did: she wanted this to continue – to the very end, and beyond!

The hand at her neck trailed down again, she kept her head against his shoulder, while she felt his hand close over her breast, fingers again gliding over the hardened peak, clamping it between them while massaging the soft orb, that filled his large hand. "Not surprising," he crooned. "Not surprising at all."

Crying out, pressing firmly against him, she felt one of his finger sliding inside her! His thump kept teasing her clit, while she arched against him, her thighs spreading on their own account. She had been filled by other males, but that had always been a combination of pain and humiliation. This was nothing like that, on the contrary: this was everything she had been missing. Her body, used to abuse, was feeling pleasure for the first time – and she loved it!

She felt her muscles clench around his digit, his fingers pinching and pulling her nipple, only to sooth the punctual pain with languid brushes over her breast. She heard him speak into her ear, but she was moaning so loud, it filled her ears that she almost didn't hear much else… "That's it, Kitten, keep it up, you're almost there."

There? Where is that? – She wanted to ask, but her mind was blown away by these new impressions inflicted upon her by this nameless night elf.

Then, she knew, she was 'there': it was as if she fell through the clouds, the ground pulled away from under her feet. Her body reared in his grasp, her moans were torn by a scream that was something between a wail and a banshee's screech.

His thump kept on rubbing that sensitive nub, making her rock in his arm, her head threshing from side to side.

When her peak finally faded, she collapsed against him, panting. This was paradox: she was laying with somebody, she just met and who was supposed to be her enemy – and he just gave her her first orgasm. – Whimpering she felt him withdraw his hand from her drenched core, making her shudder.

Through half closed eyes, she watched him lift his finger, coated with some transparent, thick moisture… and lick it clean. Gasping, feeling drained but not in the least finished, she watched his display; so simple and yet so… enticing. Stretching her neck, she didn't know, what she did there – but he did.

Meeting her searching lips, he kissed her – not her first, but the first, she enjoyed and the first, she wanted to remember. With one hand, she reached up, touching his chin, his jaw… feeling the silky strands of his silver whiskers that were slightly tickling her throat.

She felt his tongue pressing in between her lips, felt it gliding over her teeth – and then slip through. Moaning, the sound was muffled, as her own tongue met his. First, hesitantly, then with unknown vigor, until she felt, that even her mouth was fully occupied by him – and she didn't mind at all.

His hands were already roaming over her body. The blanket, he'd given her earlier, was thrown aside, as he turned her to face him, laying her onto her back.

She didn't know how she appeared to him, but to her, he was probably the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her life. And on top of it that gleam of hunger edged in his silver glowing eyes that she could see for a split second before his lips crashed back against hers.

This kiss was feverishly, demanding, hard. Moaning and whimpering, her hands had entangled themselves into his mane, trying to pull him closer. He was alternating between nipping and biting her already swollen lips, to burying his tongue in her throat, almost throttling her while she gasped for air.

He easily covered all of her as they laid there. And things resumed as both his hands trailed down over her sides, her thighs… Hooking under her knees, she moaned when both her legs were lifted, her thighs spread wide. Her anticipation was now edged with fear when she saw that he had shed his pants, without her even noticing. Looking down, she was greeted by his manhood, standing proud and throbbing at attention. He was easily the largest man she had even come this close with, as large as the troll chief had been, though his cock was proportional to the rest of him…

"Don't worry, it'll fit." His hoarse whisper was a promise of both fulfillment of her desire, and pain. And… it made her arousal grow further.

One last kiss, and he straightened up, his hands hooked under her knees while keeping her trembling thighs spread. "Though I won't lie, Kitten," that malevolent gleam flaring in his eyes, "this is going to be a very tight fit."

Like one last second thought she wanted to say something, anything to make him stop for a moment – but her mind went blank: his head pressed into her core. It… hurt.

He just pause for a moment, letting go of her legs, which kept themselves up and brushing against his sides. One hand grasping hers next to her head, intertwining their fingers, the other resting on her hips. A smile, greeted by wide green glowing eyes…

One thrust. Just one, and pain surged through her from her suddenly overstretched core to the rest of her body. She had been slick with her first orgasm; now her channel was moist enough to allow this quick penetration. His hand on her hips held her steady, while he pushed deeper beyond the point of her thinking that she couldn't fit any more inch within her… and he just pressed in further.

Crying out, she knew her scream echoed through the jungle. Feeling his pelvis pressed against her, his head prodding the entrance to her womb… Whimpering, she felt him move against her, still going deeper and buried to the hilt.

Groaning in bliss, his hands clamped down at her hand and hip, he fell forward; his hot breath spilling over her neck and shoulder when he whispered: "This feels nice… yeah, I think, I'll stay here."

He was too big. The pain flooded her senses, and she whimpered in strain, when he withdrew, only to thrust back in – his stroke only slightly eased. As gentle as he had been with his hands, his almost feral arousal didn't permit that anymore. Thrusting deep and hard, each of his movements was followed by a pained cry.

Pearls of sweat were forming on her forehead, as she forced her body to relax – tension would only make the experience more excruciating than it was already…

However… it wasn't so bad anymore.

The pain of being stretched beyond her natural limits, being forced to accommodate something simply too large in comparison to her… and yet, pleasure started to bloom deep inside her as her channel started to get used to his length and girth, and her moans and gasps altered.

As much as his entering had been painful, now she was basking in it. Laying splayed open, her head in her neck, she practically offered her neck to his dominance… which he gladly accepted.

He noticed the shift taking place under him. Sitting up, he pulled her up with him, increasing his speed until he was mercilessly pummeling her tight snatch. One hand holding the small of her back, holding her pressed against him, the other clawed in her hair, pulling her head into her neck. Her increasing moans spilling from her wide open lips, he once again plundered her mouth, without ceasing his thrusts. Lips trailing down her jaw, he bit her ear lope, clamping his teeth into her flesh, making her scream pitch as she jumped in his arms.

Roughly pulling her head, she met his gaze. "Don't come!" he snarled. Not knowing what he meant, she couldn't even nod with his hand clawed in her hair…

His hand on her lower back, slipped deeper, and deeper, until –

Eyelids fluttering, she felt his fingertip press against her tight star. Pleasure had taken over too far and his finger pressed forward through the relaxed muscle, entering her forbidden hole.

A strangled cry escaped her lips. Roughly pulling her hair, he hoarsely whispered into her ear: "Don't you _dare_ to come…"

Trembling from strain at his words, her nails clawed into his hard chest, that was coated with a fine sheen of sweat – just like hers. Whimpering and gasping, she felt his finger dig deeper and deeper… It didn't even hurt, but it felt so alien… and so good. Having his cock buried into her dripping pussy, and now his finger in her ass, both jerking into her hard and fast…

She was lost. Moaning, her body shook from the assault dealt by this man, who'd so flawlessly claimed her.

"And now, Kitten," she heard him groan, "Now you may come!"

She did. The moment, the last word was spoken, he planted his mouth roughly onto her, crashing her lips. Like before, she felt her insides clamp around his manhood and finger, seemingly strangling both with her release, as her scream of pleasure tore from her sore throat, occupied, stolen by his lips.

Rocking in his lap, her mewling reverberated against him; he didn't last long, either. Two more thrusts, and she felt him release inside her. She felt her insides overflow with heat – it almost made her climax again! His roar was muffled against her lips, as his own body jerked uncontrollably against her. He held her so tight, her arms were mashed between their chests.

Coming down slowly, panting, sweating, the night elf laid both of them back onto the sheet, pulling out of her. Laying in his arms, she was too tired to keep her eyes open. Her heartbeat and breath calmed down soon enough, as did his. She felt him stroking her sweaty cheek, the uninjured one. Did she have to say something? She couldn't think of anything… What did people say after having such mind blasting, wonderful sex? – She didn't know…

"Get some sleep, Kitten." Good idea; a very, _very_ good idea.


	8. A Journey never ends

**A Journey never ends**

She woke with a start. Not quite remembering what had happened, she straightened up.

Her blankness didn't stay long: aching bruises, her nethers sore, she still felt teeth buried in her delicate skin at her neck… Stifling a groan of both pain and delight, she suppressed a chuckle. Who'd know her body was capable of such strong passion? If she'd known earlier, she surely wouldn't have been so shy and hesitant around men…

Not any more, she thought. Looking around, her eyes fell onto the night elf. Now in daylight, he looked less like a shadow and more like someone made of flesh and blood. Completely hued in black leather, his daggers sheathed at his side (and probably countless more knifes and blades hidden from sight) and his hair flowing down his back from a high tail. He was bridling his night black mount, rearming it with those dark plate armory that protected its most vulnerable parts against an assailant.

While she had been sleeping, he had covered her with a thin blanket. Pulling it around her, she was again aware of her desperate situation. The only bright thing was, that they were at the coast. Either north of here or south, Grom'gol must be located. With some supplies, and hopefully something to cover her up, she could make it there while keeping along the coastline… She just hoped, it wasn't too far from here. She had no map, and the one, Master Zhao had been carrying with him, she'd only seen a few times – she only remembered the basic points of strategy, not enough to find her way without some help…

At least, if he was willing to just let her go… He wasn't some valiant hero in shining armor, he was an opportunist, who had no trouble with taking what he wanted. He hadn't hurt her, and somehow she wanted to believe that he wouldn't have taken her if she really wouldn't have wanted it… but doubt kept itself present in her worried mind –

"Good, you're awake," the night elf said, when he turned around, nodding at her. "Otherwise, I'd wake you up now." The campfire had already burned down. He settled opposite of her passing over some dry meat and water. She winced at the memory: Master Zhao would wrinkle his snout at such a ration, he probably wouldn't even call it a 'ration'… Chewing slowly, she thought, if I want to get myself proper rations, I should get myself a proper job first…

"North of here is Grom'gol," the night elf said after she had finished. "On the way, you'll have to cross the Nazferiti River. From there it'll be at least a whole days walk or longer till Grom'gol." She swallowed while her eyes seemed to grow with each word. "I'll give you a lift over the river, but I can't get you closer than that. The Horde is rather fidgety around there and I rather not run into one of their patrols… especially with a blood elf in tow."

She nodded. She was relieved, she wanted to cry in relieve… She opened her mouth to say something, to somehow express her gratitude, her joy, her undying thanks for what he had done, for what he wanted to do for her, but the night elf was already standing again, rummaging through his pack before throwing her some leather strands and a square piece of brightly colored silken cloth. "Take that, I don't really need it. Your shoes are over there" – he pointed her right – "and I think those sleeves can still be useful. Unless you want to walk to Grom'gol naked, I suggest you get creative."

Nodding another time, she grabbed the strands, not looking back at him. His matter-of-fact voice, not a hint of his teasing or crooning from last night, was so disturbing that she didn't dare to look at him any longer. And still no words to express her feelings.

Her sleeves were still crusted with dirt so she gave them a quick wash in the salt water – better than nothing for now, she resumed. Pulling them on, fastened with strands, she tore the blanket in two triangles, one wounding around her hips. Tearing a hole through the other, she pulled it over her head; draped down her breasts, she frowned. Usually, she would bind those full orbs flat, but the blanket wasn't large enough, so she knotted the ends tightly in her back.

Looking down at her, her slightly rustled braid draped down her chest, she frowned. Well, it'll serve until I can get myself some better cloth… Maybe I can borrow some before earning the money to buy them…

* * *

Covering any trace of their camp, the night elf waved her over to his patiently waiting mount. She was lifted into the saddle, him settling behind her – all the while not uttering a word. She, too, kept her lips sealed, all too aware of his nearness; the leather pressing against her back, his arm securely encircled around her waist and his body heat radiating.

The saber was dashing smoothly through the jungle, instinctively knowing where to run so that both riders easily fitted under low hanging branches and tentacles. All the while, she was aware of their rhythmical swaying against each other. It was very much like their lovemaking on the beach…

Well, if it _was_ lovemaking that is, she thought sadly. To her it was… maybe to him it was just like scratching an itch… just to satisfy his needs.

What do I know…?

Well, the afterglow was still present under her skin… The warmth, she felt there was from another source then the pressing damp jungle heat. Even though her spirits had sank due his almost rude behavior, the warmth lingered, and she welcomed it.

'Warmth of the heart is an everlasting well of confidence and happiness', Master Zhao had often said. 'Even a mere second can make your heart overflow with joy – and even if the moment is long gone, your heart can still taste it's sweetness. Relish the moment, Windkin, and it'll last forever'.

"You are dreaming again, Kitten." The voice crooning into her ear made her shudder. "That's an unhealthy habit…" His hand ever so slightly pressed her closer, it caused her stomach making flips.

"There's… a lot to think about," she returned hesitantly, looking down at his hand on her belly, his fingers playing with the tip of her braid.

"True, there is…"

He fell silent again – lost in thought? She didn't know, but his arm around her, the other holding the saber's reins, was more tender as it held her secure against his chest.

When the river came into view, her heart fell. So soon already?

Cats usually didn't like water, the night elves mount was no exception. Jumping lithely from one rock to the other, however, the river was quickly crossed and they stood on the other side. Time to go, then…

"Ahm… thank you," she whispered over her shoulder, not looking up. "For… saving, and… well, everything…" Now, that sounded weak… but how to put in words what she felt? Spoken language sometimes was very limited when it came to describing your feelings…

For a moment, she hoped, he would say something – but he didn't. His arms left her, and she slowly slipped off the saber, still not looking up.

Anything else? She couldn't think of anything more to say. 'Thank you showing me the pleasures of real sex'? Or 'Thank you for combing my hair – I couldn't have done it as nicely'?

Turning away from saber and rider, she could already see the beach. A day's walk from here… She could do that. She was a good runner, always had been –

Claws in her hair, wrestling her head back. Her back slammed against the saber, her startled cry was muffled by hungry lips pressing down onto hers. Gasping, her mouth was soon occupied by his exploring tongue, tasting and touching, wrestling and claiming her as he had done the night before.

Her neck hurt, as did her hairline, but, truly, she didn't care. Hanging in his hand, she moaned and mewled into him. Her own tongue lashed against his, enticing it, encouraging it… and all the while she was wishing and hoping for more – but she knew already, that he wouldn't give it, that their time was running out…

He broke the kiss and, his hand still clamping down her neck, hissed: "Remember this, Kitten. My name is Zantrys; and I want you to whisper it whenever you are alone."

She tumbled, when he let go of her. The saber whirled around and with a few wide strides, it was gone.

Standing perplexed, she stared mutely where he'd disappeared; a lone figure, lost in the jungle.

She still felt his lips on hers, the breeze of his whisper against her ear… his hand in her neck, demanding and claiming what he desired. And she willingly gave it – and she would have given more… much more, if he so wanted.

The lonely wanderer started her long walk. Reaching the beach, she turned north – and ran.

* * *

Grom'gol Base Camp was an important hub for the Horde. Supplies and soldiers were moved from here to Stonard in the Swamps of Sorrow. She thought about that when she approached slowly, her legs stinging and heavy. It was already dawning, she had been running for hours, sometimes just jogging, then racing again, till she finally saw the wood made towers of the camp. She clearly saw the outlines of the flighttower against the growing darkness. Zeppelins landed there, shuttling between Orgrimmar and the Undercity. But those flights are not for free, she reminded herself, all too aware of her yearnings.

It was a large camp, though. Surely she would find some little jobs in the inn or so; the monks had taught her in brewing and potion making, so maybe she could work with the local alchemist or herbalist. And nobody knew her; she was just a poor little elf, who got robbed by trolls and who lost her… travel companion, and all of her belongings in the process. Yes, that was good… and the truth. She had already concluded, that she wouldn't mention the night elf, _Zantrys_. Ooh, that name was like as strong, alluring breeze in her mind.

The guards, patrolling the battlements, had already spotted her. Four orcs, their axes at the ready approached her over the beach, probably watched and covered by archers. "Who goes there?" The speaker spoke loud enough he was heard in Zul'Mamwe… She remembered, orcs were smart but their night sight wasn't as well as hers. They might have taken her for an enemy troll…?

Lifting her hands, palms outwards, she called back. "I am unarmed! I got ambushed by Skullsplitter trolls and lost my companion."

Blinking, the orcs were relieved that it was just… a blood elf? What was a blood elf doing here? Without a mount, or supplies or weapons? – Their faces spoke a tale of curiosity, confusion, suspicion, relief, and even respect. She liked orcs, their faces had always been easy to decipher…

One of the guards gave a signal to the watchtower, and they made their way back to Grom'gol, the strange brown elf (brown elf, elves weren't brown, they were pale and pink!) in their midst, who obviously needed a healer, if those countless bruises were any indication… Soon they walked through the port, entering Grom'gol. The first news got ahead of them, when shouts greeted her.

"Get Kin'weelay, we have a patient for him." – "Where's the Commander?" – "I'm already here, idiot!" – "Holy fuck, a _brown_ elf?!" – "Hey, where is Nemeth, he sure wants to see this…" – "Stop staring, she's not some curiosity… Never thought, elves can actually tan…" – "Wow, those are some nice… apples…" – "Must be a sleek one to survive those trolls…" – "I see why they didn't want to kill her…" – "See those thighs? I sure want to get between those…"

She barely paid attention. Being everybody else's focus of interest was nothing she wanted, much less court; and some of the comments were openly lecherous, which didn't serve to calm her exhausted nerves… Her feeble attempts to keep her makeshift clothes in place, just made everything worse.

The crowd parted and the commander came in view, a tall brutish orc (well, orcs in general looked brutish at first sight…), clad in mail armor, no plate probably due to the heat, and with grayish green skin. With him came a wary troll (oh no… oh, get a _grip_ on you, girl, he's in your team!), with flame colored hair, similar to her own hair color, with an aged face, clad in brown and orange leathers.

Looking her all over, the troll's brow shot up. "Girl, A bet ya hav' a storey ta tell, huh?" he stated.

She shrugged uneasy. "You bet," she whispered hoarsely.

"Alright, you buggers!" the Commander yelled. "Don't you have anything else to do? Get to your bloody posts!"

She would have liked to thank him; all those stares at her… never _ever_ good.

"As for you, Miss," the commander turned to her, scanning her with his piercing eyes. "I hope you have some good story to tell. Usually, the gates are closed until dawn during the night. If my guards wouldn't have mistaken you for some troll messenger you might have had to sleep outside the walls…"

Following the grumpy commander, she remembered another streak about orcs: they tended to be easily pissed off the more power they got… She didn't mind though, even the most cranky orc could be reasoned with, in the end after he had some time to cool off… She hoped, that this one would be similar…

The commanders office was spartan and surprisingly tidy. Settling behind a desk, the orc eyed her again, curiosity edged in those blood red eyes, though he kept up a professional façade. "I am Commander Aggro'gosh, welcome in Grom'gol Base Camp… Don't take it personal, but you surely are the strangest blood elf who ever came through here," he said; it didn't sound as if he minded, though…

"I hear that often," she returned croakily and settled on a chair when the orc pointed at it.

"Anyway, your name, and what's your business in Stranglethorn? My men said something about a caravan and wild trolls being involved." Pointing at the troll, who now leaned against the wall. "That's Kin'weelay, our healer and local expert, if you so want. And I haven't heard any reports that a caravan was on the way here…"

She shook her head. "I wasn't part of a caravan, Sir," she said. "I was traveling with my mentor. I am…" She hesitated, then: "My name is _Windkin_." In a low voice since her throat was still sore, she rehearsed her story a second time. She went true with it, till the point of her escape. She cut out the part with the night elf, skipped a day and added a few more given the walking distance. Neither the commander nor Kin'weelay seemed to notice, to mind or to bother about it.

She was questioned by both males and it took several hours. She didn't know if they believed her altered end and when they asked, if she had seen any Alliance she had to suppress her unease. Shaking her head, she declared she hadn't seen any. That's a shame, the commander murmured… or maybe her luck, he added: Only two days ago an Alliance assassin had taken care of this Skullsplitter nuisance named Ana'thek the Cruel. She probably just missed the assassination… Windkin just nodded, looking truly relieved.

When she asked when the next zeppelin to the Undercity would come and how much it would cost her, Aggro'gosh shook his head. "Can't keep a rookie here, even if it's a resilient on," he grumbled. "The zeppelin will be here next week. Make yourself useful here until then." She asked how much it would cost. "Didn't you hear me? You leave Stranglethorn with that ship and get your brown ass home. This cursed jungle is no place for a kid like you. And if anyone in Silvermoon hears about, that I didn't to get you outta here fast, they'll be talking my ear off… and probably more than that…"

Windkin was startled. She would get a free ride to the Undercity? But why would the commander see her wellbeing as part of his duty, and take over the costs of her passage to the Undercity? And what was more surprising, what had her so called kin to do with this? Never before had anyone of them showed any interest in her… Probably because she had always shunned them, kept her distance, felling inept whenever they were around… They probably didn't even know she existed.

And so she didn't object. If this would get the commander to helping her, she would gladly accept it – and in the meanwhile earn some money while being here.

Things started to look brighter the following days. And when the zeppelin to the Undercity finally arrived and she got on board, she could still barely believe it. She would be going… home… well, the closest thing to _home_ she had… with Master Zhao gone, not even the monk school could possibly be home… But now at least she would finally see that golden forest with flame red leaves, she would see the city of Silvermoon where magic was within the very air. Not that she knew anything about magic, but these last days her yearnings had become almost painful. Master Zhao had said, that it was important for her to see her homeland, that it would be essential in her personal trials. She might still disagree with his sentiment, but she would follow his advice, and who knew (not her, that was for sure…), maybe… Well, she would get wiser in the end at least.


	9. Epilog: Dawnblade

**Epilog: Dawnblade**

Zantrys Dawnblade, sitting on his nightsaber like he would on a throne, entered Fort Livingston. He greeted the guards and slipped off his giant saber, which he left with the stables. The fort was a military compound, whist started as just another basement for explorers in this region; but with the Whirlpool separating Stranglethorn, the Alliance needed it.

Approaching the innkeeper, he left the severed head of Ana'thek of the Skullsplitter with Livingston himself, who founded this camp. The bounty wasn't much, but he wasn't picky, he liked his 'job', and he didn't need much. Not to mention that a little fortune of his was still waiting for him back in Darnassus. He didn't need to kill rogue trolls to earn a living – he'd admit it: he did it… just for fun.

The draenei shaman threw him winks, but he ignored her – very unlike his usual self but there was a lot going on in his mind… Most of it concerning a flame haired blood elf girl.

Could it be? – Heh, Elune, that minx, really had a strange sense of humor… Twelve years… Settling by the fire, he unpacked some dried meat.

Yes, twelve years ago, he'd been fighting in Ashenvale, his assigned target a Horde paladin. Just recently, only a few weeks before that, the blood elves had joined the Horde, who now had paladins among their ranks – which was bad. And this one was unfortunately powerful, with striking red hair like glowing embers, carrying quite casually a huge hammer around as if it wasn't heavier than a twig.

First, Zantrys had thought that paladin, Geran Ygnivar he was named, would be easy to dispose. But the guy was guarded by his mate, a golden haired priestess with the loveliest face he'd ever seen. Eventually they fell, of course – first the beautiful female, than the raging flame haired male, raging because his mate was dead… But the moment, he had finished Geran, too, the priestess, dying but not dead yet, attacked him with one last spell.

It was a mortal wound, his whole ribcage had been blasted open. However, he was lucky, help arrived just in time and he was saved – after being indisposed for several weeks. But no matter how much time passed, he never forgot those moments before he passed out, watching those dying lovers fumbling for each other's hands. And when they found them, despite the pain they must have been in, on both faces a tranquil smile appeared. They died in peace under the stars, together.

Somehow this picture had never left him, and never again would he meet such an extraordinary couple, neither as allies nor as enemies. Their faces were burned into his mind and wouldn't dissipate no matter how much alcohol he would down. In the beginning, he saw them whenever he closed his eyes; they haunted him. When he was finally fully healed, his superiors were still hesitantly to let the powerful yet unbalanced assassin back into the field… Eventually, he got over it, but those smiling faces never left him…

And now, only two days ago, he saw the priestesses face again. Of course, it wasn't really her: Adara Ygnivar had died twelve years ago. And first he hadn't recognized it, but then, when he was untying the little troll-toy… That blood elf girl with brown skin and flame red hair… she had the same breathtaking face as the priestess in Ashenvale. The priestess, who'd almost killed him.

It fit. Didn't the girl also mention, that her parents were killed in Ashenvale? – And yet, could so many coincidences possibly _exist_?

Zantrys Dawnblade chuckled; sitting in front of the large campfire in the middle of the fort, chewing on his dried meat, his eyes peering into the clear sky. Yes, Elune… _you_, Lady, have the weirdest sense of humor ever. Your priestesses never taught us that part about you…

He laughed out, not bothering the funny glances thrown at him. He would have to keep his eyes open, then.

* * *

It's not quite the end (a story never really ends, it's just some kind of a snap-shot in some persons life - my opinion), but this was what happened to my little elf before she starts her trials in Eversong. Will she meet that night elf again? Probably… dunno… Maybe? Azeroth is big, they may never see each other again… or will they? Who knows? ;)

I started this story last year and wrote the first two chapters down in a few days. I finished it just recently during the holidays. Sometimes, a story just has to rest... and pester you for a while till you get back to it. This one certainly did... At some points I'm not really satisfied with myself 'cause of the rush of events. Maybe a couple more pages to properly holt the contents, but then again, it is and is supposed to be a shortstory. I guess I have to train a little more ;)

I hope you enjoyed yourselves.


End file.
